Valkyria Chronicles: 780
by DC20
Summary: Freesia York lived her life footloose and fancy free, but when she's taken POW along with Wavy and Fina she finds herself detained and confined, and when rumors begin to circulate that the war in Gallia is already over the prisoners grow restless.
1. Highway to Hell

**Highway to Hell**

The shovel made a heavy, grating noise as it cut through the pile of gravel, sliding past the larger chunks of rock and sending loose fragments rolling to the ground. It wasn't the noise itself that bothered Freesia – it was the fact that it was about the only constant noise she'd heard for the past week. Lift the shovel. Slide it into the gravel. Lift the gravel. Move the gravel. Repeat. Her arms hadn't been so sore since boot. Every part of her body ached – arms, legs, back, stomach… Especially her stomach. The hole had been patched up, but if she wasn't forced to work she'd probably still be resting. Dropping a shovelful of gravel, she let the blade of the tool dig into the ground at her feet and rested her arm on the handle. With her free hand, she ran her fingers across her lower abdomen. Freesia could feel the bandages through the thin fabric of her prisoner's uniform. There wasn't a sharp pain anymore, but she could still feel a dull ache as she worked. The Imperial medics had told her she was fit for "duty", but she wasn't confident that the wound had completely healed. She'd make sure to have Fina check it out later. Just feeling the bandages put her off. She wasn't the only one who noticed. "You doing alright there?" a voice asked behind her.

Without letting the shovel fall, Freesia turned in place. The figure standing before her was familiar. Tall with dark hair and glasses. Wavy. The uniform the man was wearing, on the other hand, was not. It was the same blue as the Gallian BDUs, but instead of the Gallian insignias it had a dull red stripe running down the outside of each arm on the jacket, and another line running down each leg of the pants. She assumed it was so they could be easily identified. It had taken her a while to get used to seeing the man in the new uniform, and she had to pause for a moment each time she looked down at her own sleeves. The stripes were there too. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Just a little winded."

"You sure? You looked like you were nursing that wound of yours again. If there's something wrong I would advise checking yourself in with the doctor."

"No, yeah. I'm sure." Taking her hand off of her stomach, Freesia brushed a loose lock of hair out of her eyes. "I'll have Fina check it out when we get back. Not much to do about it here." Though the wound ached, there really _wasn't _much she could do about it. Working probably wasn't the best thing for it, but it was still healing. She was young. Some people weren't as lucky. "What about you? You doin' alright?"

Wavy shrugged. "As far as alright goes. My hip's a bit stiff, but all said I'm holding together."

Freesia had to give him credit. After being shot in the hip he'd _still _made it back on his feet before she did. His body was older, but he had the determination to go with it. Supposedly he'd been a teacher before the war. There might be something he could teach even here as well. "Good. Hey, our shifts almost up, right? You know how long we've got?"

"Don't have a watch, but…" Turning west, Wavy shielded his eyes. "The last few days the sun has been at around this point when they've called us off. It should be any minute now."

"Awesome."

"Indeed. We've been out here a week, too. This is our last day in rotation."

"Yeah…" One week of hard labor, two weeks back in the prison camp resting. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. As tired as she was, Freesia almost hated to leave the labor behind and move back to the prison camp. There were no walls when working the labor. "Hey," she said changing the subject, "did you see where Blondie went?"

"Last I saw Fina was up front working machinery with some of the Federation men. I'm sure we'll be able find her when they pull us out."

Freesia looked up the road. Ahead she could see a group of prisoners clearing a path through the ground ahead so construction could move forward. All told, the prairie didn't look much different than the prairies back in Gallia. Wide and open. A few shrubs and trees here or there, with grass and flowers covering the ground as far as the eye could see. The only difference was that this prairie was in the Empire. Somehow just knowing that fact made the land look completely different. "Yeah, alright. Not like they'll let us drop our work here and go find her anyway. She'll be fine. Those Federation guys aren't all bad."

"I'm not worried. She's not Gallian herself. Somehow she seems to get along well with foreigners."

Freesia laughed. "I don't think it's the fact that she's foreign that they're getting along with."

"Well," Wavy said clearing his throat. "I'm not worried about _her _in that regard."

"Don't let your guard down, it's always the one you're never going to…" A shrill whistle cut her off. Turning, the pair looked towards the noise. A convoy of trucks had come to drop off the next batch of workers and take the current group back to the prison camp for two weeks of light work and rest. And walls. "That's us."

"That it is." Reaching out his hand, Wavy grabbed Freesia's shovel. "Shall we?"

"Always a gentleman. It's a shame you were born 16 years too soon."

"No," he said while stroking the ring on his finger. "It isn't."

"Fair enough." Stepping away from the pile of gravel, Freesia and Wavy fell into line with the other prisoners and made their way down the road to where they would be loaded into the trucks. The road itself mocked her with every step she took. She'd fought the Imperials back in Gallia to help defend her homeland. Now she was building a highway for them that would ensure a constant supply line to move troops and equipment across. She wasn't sure if the road led into Gallia or the Federation, but that hardly mattered. Freesia was still building infrastructure for the enemy. The irony stung more than her wound ever had.

The line of prisoners stopped as they neared the front. Everyone had to pass through a checkpoint before they could be loaded onto the trucks. Off the side of the road, the line moved through a passage flanked on either side by a pair of half-tracks. An Imperial gunner manned the heavy weapon on the top of each. If anyone tried to make a break for it, the machineguns would cut them in two. Between the vehicles, Imperial soldiers watched the prisoners go past, making sure none of them tried to smuggle any weapons or tools back to camp with them. Off the front lines, the Imperials weren't wearing their usual battle armor. Instead, they wore BDUs that weren't too dissimilar from the Gallian's own. The only major difference was that their uniforms were brown instead of blue. It took a while to get used to the Imperials without the armor. They used to be helmets – masks to shoot at. Now they were people to shoot at. At least they would be if she had a gun.

Weaponless, she marched forward in line without trouble. Reaching the half-tracks, Wavy dropped the shovels on a pile of equipment and carried on. The prisoners in front of them stepped past the Imperial's and moved on to the trucks. As Wavy began to walk past, one of the soldiers put his hand on his shoulder and pushed him back. "Woah, hold up there," the soldier said. "Where do you think you're going in such a rush?"

Fixing his glasses, Wavy looked the man in the eyes. "As standard procedure states, I am moving though the checkpoint and proceeding to the loading station, where I will be loaded onto the trucks and transported back to the prison camp."

"Standard procedure? I know the Goddamn procedure. You think I'm stupid?"

"No, Sir. That was not my implication."

"It better not've been. If you ask me, though, we're sending you back to the wrong camp."

That was it. "Hey, asshole," Freesia said stepping forward. "We're just trying to–"

"Hey!" The Imperial's gun was in her face before she could finish the sentence. Speechless, she raised her hands and stepped back. "You keep your distance and stay in line if we don't pull you out. Both of you, up against the vehicles."

Freesia looked up at Wavy. The scowl on his face told her he wasn't happy. She'd been impulsive, and he'd almost definitely give her another lecture about it later. For now there wasn't much she could do but look cute and try to talk their way out of this. "Hey buddy," she said with a wink and a smile. "I'm really sorry about that. We're just… tired, ya' know? Long day for everyone. How about you let us through and we'll all relax. You boys understand, right? I hear ya'll can be pretty cool guys every once in a while."

When she stopped speaking, the two guards looked at each other and smiled. Before she could congratulate herself, the one who had his weapon trained on Freesia turned back and waved the barrel of his gun towards one of the half-tracks. "I said up against the vehicle. Come on." Groaning, Freesia stepped next to the half-track. Shoulder to shoulder with Wavy, she placed her fingertips on the vehicle's steel siding. "There we go," the soldier said. "Palms flat."

After a moment of waiting, a new voice sounded off behind her. "What do you guys got for me?"

"Just some prisoners causing trouble. Caught them coming through the checkpoint."

"Any idea who they are?"

"Haven't asked yet."

"Hm." Freesia could hear some footsteps walking closer from behind. A second later, a heavy hand fell on her shoulder. Glancing over, she could see that the man's other hand had landed on Wavy. "You. Glasses. Name and identification number."

Wavy kept his eyes on the half-track as he spoke. "Wavy, prisoner identification number 910."

"And you?"

Freesia felt the man give her shoulder a light squeeze as he spoke. "Freesia York, prisoner identification number 780."

"Hm." The hand left her shoulder, and the footsteps receded. Behind them, the man flipped through a stack of papers on a clipboard. Stopping for a moment on one of the pages, he looked over the list before moving on to the next. Once again, he stopped on the page and glanced over the contents. "Gallians."

"You could have asked," Freesia muttered.

There was a heavy thump on her back as one of the guards nudged her with the butt of his rifle. The impact pushed her lightly forward. "Well, he didn't. Keep your mouth shut."

"You've gotta be fuc–"

"I said keep your mouth shut!" The second impact shoved her into the metal siding of the half-track. Freesia had a feeling there would be a weapon butt shaped bruise forming somewhere on her back over the next few days.

The Imperial who had been flipping through the clipboard handed it off to the man next to him and stepped back. "Search them and let them through. Report it and make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Yes, sir!"

"Carry on." As he walked away, Clipboard's footsteps faded into those of the other prisoners moving through the checkpoint.

The guards didn't follow him. Instead, they walked towards the two Gallians against the half-track. "Alright, you know the drill. Spread your legs and keep your hands on the vehicle. They don't leave the siding."

"We understand," Wavy said. He shot a sideways glare at Freesia.

"Yeah," she relented. "We understand."

"Good." Freesia felt a pair of hands grasp at her left ankle. Moving in pats, they shifted up her leg. Working up the courage, she turned her head to look behind her. The machine gunner on the half-track on the other side of the checkpoint had his weapon trained on them. She made a mental note to keep her hands planted. Looking at the line of prisoners, she caught a glimpse of Fina making her way towards them. The blonde stopped as Freesia shook her head. Nodding ever so slightly, she signaled for the other woman to continue on to the trucks. Reluctantly, she complied.

Switching over, the hands began working their way up her right leg. When they reached her upper thigh, they began to run themselves back down, smoothing out her pant legs while searching for anything underneath. They wouldn't find anything. Satisfied, they moved on to her hips. From there they went to her stomach. They paused at the wrappings around her wound. "What do you have there, Gallian?"

"Bandages," she said flatly.

"Shot?"

"A mine, actually."

"It's good," the man patting down Wavy said. "It was in her record."

Grunting, the man moved on. Up her flank. Down her arms. Across her back. Back to the lower stomach. Up to her upper stomach. Up to… "Hey watch where your hands are going there cowboy."

That stopped the hands in their tracks. "Hm, right," the guard said as he took them off and stepped back. "You're all clear."

"You too, darkie." The man patting Wavy down stepped back next to his partner. "All clear."

Freesia and Wavy still hadn't taken their hands off of the half-track in front of them. "Are we free to turn around?" Wavy asked.

"Yeah," the guard said. "You're all set."

Taking their hands off of the vehicle, the two Gallians turned around. The Imperials had lowered their weapons, and the other half-track's machine gunner had turned his weapon back onto the line of prisoners moving through the checkpoint. "We're set to load onto the trucks as well?"

"Dammit darkie, don't make me repeat myself. You're clear to go. Now get out of here. I don't want to see you like this again."

Without another word, the two stepped away from the half-track and back into line. They weren't stopped again. As they moved past the rest of the guards, Wavy looked over at Freesia. "That was reckless, York. You can't keep doing things like that."

"I'm sorry, Wavy," she said. "I just… I don't know. Stupid."

"You're smarter than that."

"I know."

"You need to use your head and not–"

"Hey Wavy," she cut in, "Can we talk about this later? We're all tired, and all I want to do is get in one of those trucks and crash."

"That…" Softening his gaze, Wavy sighed. "Actually sounds like a good idea. I'll see you back at the camp, alright?"

"Yeah," Freesia said. "See you then."

Stepping off, Wavy left to board one of the trucks on the other side of the loading area. She had a feeling that if he'd taken the same truck as she had she'd be hearing his lecture the whole way back. It would be best for them to take separate rides this time around. Finding a vehicle of her own, she stopped herself before climbing into the truck's bed and took a last glimpse of the prairie around her. Free, open space as far as the eye could see. In a sad way, it was almost beautiful. There were no discernible landmarks in the distance. Her entire view was filled by the flat land and the vast expanse of the sky. And no walls. Turning back, Freesia's smile faded as she loaded herself into the back of the truck and let the heavy canvass flap swing shut behind her.


	2. Welcome Home

**Welcome Home **

"A star… Never really dies, right? She just… Waits for he—"

They were the last words Freesia heard before the world exploded in front of her. There was no way anyone could have seen it coming. The mission was to search and clear the building – they were just doing their job. By the same token, though, the Imperials were just doing theirs – and they'd done it better. As the door Edy threw open swung on its hinges, the S-Mine's trip wire came with it. There wasn't any time to get out of the way. All the young starlet could do was stammer before the explosive jumped into the air and shot its deadly payload into the two womens' position at the door. Freesia was left half conscious on her back before she realized something had gone very wrong. Even though she was delirious and bleeding out, she'd later have to admit she'd been lucky; the metal balls from the mine had torn through Edy like they'd shot through the paper thin drywall next to them. She'd never made it to the ground.

Freesia had made it to the ground though, and at the moment that was all that mattered to her. Even if she'd known her friend was dead next to her it would have been a secondary concern. All she cared about at that moment was staying alive. That concern didn't last long either though. It seemed as if as soon as she'd closed her eyes the room had shifted around her. Fina was over her now. She had grabbed her by the back of her gear and had begun to drag her across the floor. Another blink later and there was another body across the room. Freesia wasn't conscious enough to tell who it was. She couldn't even remember who'd gone into the building with them, let alone what unit she belonged to. All she could remember was dancing. Dancing and swans. She'd only ever seen the animals once, back when…

The thought was lost with the next blink. Fina was gone now. Instead, the medic kneeling above her now wore a suit of armor. Who still wore suits of armor? It was 1935 for goodness sake. And why was he touching her? Struggling, Freesia tried to bring her hands up to fight the man off. Somehow her arms suddenly weighed a tonne. Still, she couldn't just let him do whatever he wanted. She had to fight him off before she passed out again. Focusing all of her strength into her arm, Freesia willed the limb to push the man away. She felt a finger move. The arm stayed put. All she needed was a little more push. Just a little more power and she could…

Blink. There were more suits around now. They stepped in and out of her view. Every one of them looked the same, so there was no telling how many there actually were. The one who was kneeling above her was still there, but now he had some sort of metal instrument in his hand. It dropped out of view as he brought it down towards her stomach. Freesia still couldn't get her arm to move. Her finger wouldn't even budge this time. That didn't seem to matter to her anymore. Whatever tool the man in armor had been bringing down drove into her stomach, and the cool metal burned as it made contact with the skin he was prodding. It was painful, but the uncomfortable searing the device brought with it seemed distant. Even his hand on her stomach felt like it was supporting itself on someone else. The man might as well have been working on another body for all Freesia could tell. Nothing felt urgent or close – except for a sudden bump on her shoulder. Whatever had just hit her was definitely close. It didn't seem to have anything to do with the man in armor. In fact, it almost didn't seem real. It almost felt like…

* * *

Jerking, Freesia's eyes shot open and took in the sights of the bed of the dimly lit transport truck. The canvas covering blocked all view of the world outside, and what she could see within the fabricated event horizon wasn't particularly uplifting. Prisoners sat shoulder to shoulder on the benches lining the sides of the bed. Most of them were asleep, but every so often her gaze would fall upon one who was sitting in silence. She couldn't tell whether they were lost in thought or just waiting for the ride to end. Either way, they were all stuck in the same situation. Nobody could get off the transport until the armed guards who sat in the middle of the large vehicle and behind the truck's cabin gave the order.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dim space of the transport vehicle, Freesia realized what the heavy thump on her shoulder had been. The prisoner next to her had dozed off, and in her sleep she'd slumped over onto the Gallian at her side. The snoozing woman hadn't noticed that she'd woken Freesia up. It wouldn't be fair for Freesia to blame her, but she was too tired to care about fair. Pushing the woman with her shoulder, she watched the other prisoner's head loll for a moment before falling over to the other side, landing on the shoulder of the other prisoner she'd been sandwiched between. He didn't wake up either. Fitting.

With a long groan Freesia shifted in her seat. As she settled into position, she noticed a slight discomfort in her stomach. With her hand, she checked to make sure the bandages that had been placed over her wound were still holding. They were. She'd already known the injury wasn't the problem though – it was motion sickness. No matter where Freesia was sent, she'd always felt sick on the way there. Boats, trucks, trains… They were all the same as far as her stomach was concerned. Even before she'd been transferred to reconnaissance and worked as a motor vehicle operator she'd been out of commission within minutes if she wasn't the one behind the wheel. Luckily, she'd gotten into the habit of making sure she sat next to the rear flap on the trips to and from the prison camp. Though they weren't happy about the special treatment, the other prisoners were more than willing to let her take the seat. It had only taken them twice to realize that refusing her the position didn't end well for anyone. Nobody was particularly eager to go for round three.

The heavy canvass flap slid through Freesia's hands as she pushed it aside and stuck her head out the back of the truck. It would have been tempting to jump out and make a run for it, but at the speed the vehicle was moving it wouldn't be likely that she would be in any condition to make a run for it after hitting the ground, let alone make a crawl for it. Even if she survived the drop the armed guards would stop the vehicle and shoot her on the spot, no questions asked. She'd never seen it happen with her eyes, but Freesia had heard it once. The distant sound of a machinegun was almost lost under the dull thuds of her hammer. Word of what had happened took two days to spread to her, and after that Freesia had no desire to attempt an escape of her own. Freedom may have been the one thing she desired most, but she figured it would be tough to enjoy that freedom if she were dead. Whether through a Gallian victory or not, the war would have to end someday, and when it did she'd be free to go. Until then it was a waiting game.

The sun had set, and the night was dark. Looking up, Freesia could see a number of stars where there were breaks in the clouds. The bright points in the sky broke through in clusters, each one separated from the others by the coverage above. It wasn't much of a view. Bringing her gaze back down, Freesia looked out in the distance for a landmark. All she needed was to visualize her movement. The fresh air was great, and her stomach was already starting to settle a bit as compared to what it was in the sardine tin of a transport. What would really help, though, would be to see that she was moving. She searched the horizon for a moment, but it didn't do her any good. It was too dark to see anything except for the road behind her, only visible in the headlights of the following truck. The road wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing, and within a couple of minutes Freesia was able to bring her head back behind the flap without instantly feeling like she was going to throw up all over the back of the truck.

Nothing had changed while she had her head outside the back of the canvass. Those who were still awake still sat and waited, and those who were asleep still dozed through the journey. Looking to her left, Freesia saw that the man sitting next to the sleeping woman she had pushed had himself toppled over, and the two leaned against one another, each keeping the other from falling flat. If they hadn't been covered in dirt, sweat, and grime it might have been cute. Instead, it just reminded Freesia of how dirty she was herself. There wasn't a clean face in the truck, and in the confined space it certainly smelt like it. Not wanting to get sick again, she rested her head back. If she could doze it off then everything would be alright. Making sure she wouldn't fall over herself, Freesia readied for sleep and closed her eyes.

* * *

When she opened her eyes again she was in a bed. A real bed. With sheets and a blanket. That didn't happen too often anymore, and whenever it did she had to savor the moment. Freesia wasn't sure how she got there, but that wasn't exactly a new experience either. She knew how to deal with that by now – just follow the checklist. Am I the only one in bed? Check. Was someone there before? Nope, it's a single. Do I check out OK? Yeah, I'm just –

Freesia's attempt to sit up was cut short by the stabbing pain in her stomach. Before she had made it half way up she dropped back down into the mattress. It wasn't nearly as graceful as she'd hoped. Pain wasn't particularly conducive to grace, she'd come to realize. Luckily, nobody else could have seen it. Her bed was surrounded by a large, white curtain. Freesia could hear people moving around on the other side, but she couldn't see anything through it. Until somebody decided to come get her it didn't seem like she was going to be able to get up and look for herself either. The pain in her stomach told her she was in a field hospital. Someone would be by to check up on her shortly. Shortly wasn't too far off.

Parting the curtain, Fina stepped through and walked up to Freesia's bed. Smiling, she took a seat in the one chair available. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"As alright as it comes, I guess." Freesia had tried to get a glimpse of the room beyond the curtain as Fina had moved past it, but the corpsman had only parted it enough to step through, and she had closed the gap behind her before advancing on the bed. "What happened?"

"The outpost we were checking out was still occupied. Imperial special forces. You walked into a mine. Luckily we were able to save you. We almost weren't."

"So we made it?"

Fina smiled, but she didn't look happy. "Yeah," she said. "We made it."

Lifting the blanket off of her, Freesia took a look at the damage the mine had done. Sliding the hospital gown up her stomach, she cringed when she saw the large bandages that wrapped around her waist. She wouldn't be wearing her dancing dress anytime soon, if ever again – at least if she wanted to turn a profit. "How long was I out?"

"About 16 hours. We pulled out as soon as you and Wavy were cleared to move. If we'd have waited any longer I don't –"

"Wait," Freesia interrupted. "Wavy got hit?"

"Yeah." Turning her head, Fina seemed as if she were trying to look through the curtain herself. "He's in the men's ward right now. They know what they're doing there. He's in good hands."

"That's good." Having checked herself out, Freesia slid the hem of her gown back down. There wasn't anything left to do about the wound except for let the doctors take care of it. "How's the rest of the squad?"

Fina sat for a moment before answering. "We're it," she said dropping her head.

"What do you mean?"

Raising her head, Fina looked Freesia in the eyes. "Nelson and Dufor are dead. I don't know what happened to the rest, but it didn't look good."

Freesia's mind drifted back to the battle. Edy had been in front of her. She must have gone down when the mine exploded. Probably took the brunt of the blast. If Edy hadn't been standing in front of her, she probably would have been killed herself. That left Dufor. She must have been the second body. As it settled in, Freesia was left with nothing to say. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"So where does that leave us?"

"We uh…" Fina started reluctantly. "We should probably talk about that…"

* * *

"York."

Once again, Freesia was pulled out of her slumber. This time her eyes didn't jerk open. They slowly came apart until she could barely make out the fuzzy silhouette in front of her. "Hm?" she said groggily.

"York, scoot over. I need some air."

Though it was too dark to make out any features on the silhouette, Freesia recognized the voice. Colin Walsh – Prisoner identification number 505, former soldier of the Atlantic Federation. Without bothering to respond, Freesia saddled herself over and made room for the man next to the canvass flap. In order to make the space, she had to push the sleeping woman next to her further away from the back of the truck. She stirred a bit, but she didn't wake. Whoever she was, she slept like a dead man.

Once she'd made herself comfortable again, Freesia tried to catch a peek out of the truck's flap as Colin got his air. She couldn't see much, but what she did see didn't look any different than what she'd seen before. "Anything out there?"

"Nah," the man said as he pulled his head back in. "Just the road. I don't care a whole lot about the view right now though. It smells like something died in here."

Freesia glanced over towards the woman next to her. "Wouldn't surprise me."

"No." Making himself comfortable, Colin rested his head against the siding of the truck. "I guess it wouldn't."

Though he was from the Federation, they were both prisoners of war. That distinguishing trait came first. Just before they'd left for Marberry, Federation troops stormed Randgriz in disguise and attempted to abduct Princess Cordelia. At the time Freesia had sworn never to forget about the Federation's deceit, but after the first couple of weeks in a mixed camp that never had come and gone. All told, the Federation prisoners weren't all that bad. There were a couple here and there that could use a beating or three, but there were a couple of Gallians she knew that could use those beatings as well. At the end of the day a prisoner was a prisoner, regardless of whose army he or she had served before being captured.

Although she didn't particularly mind the company, Freesia was surprised to see the man in her truck. He'd been in the group working the machinery with Fina, and she hadn't seen the other woman board the truck she was in. "Hey Walsh," Freesia said, "You see where Fina went?"

"Yeah. She's in one of the other trucks with the rest of the guys. There wasn't enough room for all of us so we split down the middle."

"Well, at least she won't be wanting for company."

"No, she won't," Colin said with a laugh. "Mary hopped in next to her when I left. You know how that woman can talk."

"Ouch. Stuck next to Chatty Cathy for the ride back. I can't say I'm jealous."

"Not at all. Poor girl probably hasn't slept a wink."

"Probably not." Smiling, Freesia looked over at the man who'd taken her spot. It was still way to dark to make out any distinguishing features. While she was sad to see her spot go, she knew that if she needed to Colin would let her get to the flap before she made a mess of the truck. That freed her up for more important things. "I'm going to see if I can't get a little more sack time." She said. "Wake me up when we get there."

"Will do."

It really didn't matter whether he woke her up or not. If it wasn't him, it would be the guards. One alarm clock was as good as the next. Colin was likely to be more delicate though. Forgetting about both the guards and the man, Freesia tried to focus on something nice before drifting off. Those swans had been nice. They'd danced in the water, sending splashes and ripples in all directions before taking off into…

* * *

It had been four weeks since she'd first gone down. Freesia was walking again, but she still hadn't fully recovered. That didn't seem to be an issue though, as the doctors who'd taken care of her had cleared her for discharge. Almost immediately after she'd regained consciousness, the three Gallians had been transferred deeper into Imperial controlled territory. The first move was the worst. Freesia's wounds were still fresh, and the jostling around she'd done on the way to the second hospital couldn't have been the best thing for her. She could only imagine how the experience had gone for Wavy.

Despite the haphazard nature of their early care, however, both Wavy and Freesia soon began to recover, and four weeks after being hit they were on their way into the Imperial Alliance proper. The journey itself wasn't terrible. Freesia had no idea how long the trip was, or how far into Imperial territory they were going, but the roads were wide open and the air was fresh. Although she was going against her will, the Empire would be the first foreign territory Freesia stepped foot in. If nothing else, there was an undeniable thrill about that. Every look at her escort, however, reminded her of why she had to go, and every ounce of excitement dripped out of her and was replaced by a sick, hanging dread. While they didn't wear their helmets when off of the front line, the Imperial soldiers still wore their combat body armor when outside of the Empire. It was hard enough for Freesia to look at the armor. It was even harder because their escort was the same unit that had captured them.

If circumstances had been different, they might not have been bad guys. Their medic had saved her life, after all, and even the riflemen of the unit were friendly and cheerful. Not one of them abused Wavy because of his Darcsen heritage. By the end of their journey together, Freesia had almost forgotten that these were the same people who had killed her friends. Almost.

The group's destination turned out to be a small city just across the Imperial border. Heading straight through town, the group was marched into the train station. Moving them forward, the Gallians' escort pushed them into line full of other people in uniform. Every one of them was Gallian. While the majority of the uniforms belonged to the Militia and the Army, every once in a while Freesia could pick out a Navy or Royal Guard uniform. The number of prisoners at the station was staggering, but Freesia had to admit that she was glad that they weren't alone. She watched as each uniform moved in and out of the crowd until she was slowly pushed towards the front of the line herself. At a small desk, an Imperial official documented the identities and destinations of everyone moving through the station. Five minutes after reaching the desk, Freesia had her train number and destination – H394. It didn't mean anything to her, and probably never would, but at least she had a concrete end point now. Fina followed her through a few minutes later.

The official dropped his pen when Wavy walked up to the desk. "You're in the wrong line," he said. "This one's for prisoners. You want that line over there." With his finger, the man pointed out a second line. Across the other side of the station, Freesia hadn't seen it before the man had pointed it out. Nobody was wearing a uniform in that line. They weren't soldiers either. Every one of them was a Darcsen.

"I was told to register here."

"Here? Right here?"

"Yes, sir," Wavy said.

Sighing, the official laced his fingers and placed his hands on the desk. Carefully, he looked over Wavy's uniform before glancing up at his hair. "Who told you that?"

"My unit's escort. Their Captain said that–"

"Well I'm telling you that your line is over there." Once more he picked up his pen. "I can't help you here."

Looking over at the other line, Wavy hesitated. There was only one place a line like that would end up. "Where are they going?" he asked. He already knew, but he had to hear it from the official.

Annoyed, the man behind the desk threw his hands up in the air. "They're going where you're going. That's the line for your people. This one is for POWs. If you have a problem with that you need to take it up with somebody else, because I can't help your kind here. Now get the fuck out of my line and register at your own desk."

Wavy unconsciously took a step back. "I…"

"No," the man yelled. "I don't want to hear anything from your mouth but 'Yes, sir!' If you can't do that then–"

"Is there a problem here Lieutenant?"

The man looked away from Wavy and towards the new speaker. It was the Captain who'd brought them in. "I was just–"

"I assume you were just registering this man for the POW camps."

"Of course, sir."

"Good. Make sure he gets through." Before turning around, he placed his own hands on the man's desk. "Everyone in a uniform goes to the POW camps, regardless of heritage. If I ever hear of anything different happening here I'll have you investigated personally."

"Yes, sir!" Visibly sweating, the man picked up Wavy's papers and handed them over. "I'm sorry for the mix up. You're free to go through."

H394. Taking a quick once over of his papers, Wavy turned his attention to the other line. "Sir… Where's that line going?" he asked the Captain.

The Captain took his own look at the line. Grunting, he quickly averted his eyes. "Your train is on platform 4. The guards will take you from there." After a quick nod, he turned around and left.

Joining Fina and Freesia in the area past the line, Wavy put a hand on each of their shoulders and pushed them forward. "What was that about?" Fina asked as a pair of guards escorted them to their platform.

"Nothing," he lied.

Stepping onto the platform, Freesia viewed the surrounding area. There were a number of other Gallians with them, but the majority of the prisoners had been sent to other camps. It was a bit lonelier now that many of them had gone. Nervously, she shifted her attention towards the train. Just looking at it made her stomach turn. The train was the only way to their destination though, and the armed guards at her back ensured that – like it or not – she would be on it. Freesia took one last look at a free city before boarding the train that would take her to prison.

* * *

A bright light shone into the bed of the truck. As Freesia awoke, she noticed that the truck had stopped. That could only mean one thing. With a large flashlight, one of the uniformed Imperials made sure that the prisoners in the vehicles were ready to disembark. Every one of them had been ready even before they'd gotten on in the first place. Next to her, Colin rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms. So much for a delicate wake up. "We there already?" he asked.

"Home again, home again." Stepping around the Federation soldier, Freesia pushed the canvass cover out of the way and hopped out of the transport vehicle. It was still a dark night, but the lights of the prison camp kept the area surrounding the prison walls well lit. Anybody who tried to run would stand out like a sore thumb. That didn't matter to Freesia at the moment. She didn't have the energy to run anyway. Somewhere within those prison walls was a bed with her name on it. Anything else she could possibly have to worry about could wait until tomorrow.


	3. King Rat

**King Rat**

Freesia didn't need to look at a calendar to know that winter was coming. In the cold morning air she could see her breath float and dance in front of her face every time she exhaled. Though the prisoners weren't told what the date was, she could reasonably estimate that it was at least early November. The mornings left frost on the grass that covered the lawns of the prison camp, and what few trees dotted the landscape around them had finished shedding their leaves over the past few weeks. It was the fact that Freesia was shivering like mad in the cold morning air that would have caught her attention though – or, it would have if business in the camp had been going on as usual. Instead, everyone's attention was focused on the Imperial officer who paced the three long rows of prisoners that had been formed on the main lawn of the camp.

A week and a half had passed since they'd last been sent out to work, and life in the camp had progressed as usual until that morning. Instead of being woken up and sent straight to the workhouse to pack Imperial rations for a shift or two, the prisoners had been sent out to stand in the cold. For an hour they had been forced to wait under armed guard for the officer to arrive out to the lawn, and for another half an hour they waited for him to look over a large stack of papers that had been handed to him as he reached the field. An hour and a half in the cold morning air had been more than enough for Freesia. Barious Desert certainly got cold in the night, but she hadn't been forced to stand in the open before being a POW. Her blanket would have been a nice addition to her prison attire. Unfortunately that was back in Gallia, along with everything else she could have ever cared about – at least, almost everything.

Glancing from side to side Freesia could see Fina and Wavy waiting on either flank. Standing absolutely straight and motionless, Wavy hadn't lost an ounce of his dignity or pride when he'd put the prisoner's uniform on. Every morning he made sure that his outfit was spotless and perfectly maintained, and he still held his shoulders back and his chest out as he stood in the cold morning air. In contrast, Fina was shivering so hard that Freesia could have imagined her wearing her way through the ground and under the fences. Unable to huddle up even with herself, the once medic stood with her arms at her sides and her legs straight – or as straight as she could keep them with her knees shaking and her teeth chattering. Apparently her homeland was quite a bit warmer than the Empire. Fina didn't talk about it much, and from what Freesia had heard the blonde didn't take questions about her native soil particularly seriously. Instead, she made up stories about flying boats and pirates. At first Freesia was slightly offended that Fina didn't seem to trust her enough to really tell her the truth, but after spending a couple of months in the camp she began to understand. You miss a lie less.

After what seemed like another hour of waiting, the Imperial officer began to interrogate the prisoners. Stopping at each and every face in the three lines, he paused for a moment and asked the prisoner in front of him a few questions before either stopping to mark the stack of papers in his hands or move on. Freesia and her comrades were filed in at about midway through the 178 prisoners of the camp. Although it would take the officer only half of the time to reach them as it would take him to reach the end of the line, it was still another half hour before he finally made his way up to them. By that time Freesia's fingers were almost numb. Fina had stopped shaking, but she looked pale and worn out. Freesia would have been worried, but she figured that if anything were seriously wrong with the woman Fina would be the first to know herself. Since she hadn't said anything, it must not have been a serious issue.

Stepping in front of Wavy, the officer glanced down at his stack of papers before looking the Darcsen in the eyes. The officer was Freesia's height, which only put him up to Wavy's shoulders, but that didn't stop him from staring the taller man down. Freesia almost had to laugh at the sight. The man was young – maybe about 25 – and his short red hair reminded her of one of the other performers she'd traveled with before the war. She couldn't laugh though, so she held her breath while the officer studied the man next to her. For a moment she thought he wasn't going to move, and instead opt to stare longingly into Wavy's eyes for the rest of their stay in the camp. That fantasy didn't last long. Dropping his eyes back down to the papers, the officer lifted his pen and began his interrogation. "Name and identification number?"

Wavy's eyes never left the officer in front of him. Though the other man had relented, Wavy's gaze held steady. "Wavy. 910."

The officer grunted. After scanning through his lists, he looked back up. He had to tilt his head back slightly in order to stand face to face. "Gallian."

"That's right, sir."

"And you've been injured?"

"Yes, sir," Wavy said matter-of-factly. "I was shot in the hip and the upper chest."

Once more the man grunted to himself and made a note with his pen before glancing at Wavy's hip. "It says here that you haven't been to the medical station for any injuries related to your wounds. Are they all healed?"

"They're as healed as they have to be, sir."

"Good." For a moment the officer's face lit up. Freesia could read people well enough to tell that the smile was genuine. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. "It hasn't kept you from working? No pain from stress?"

"No, sir," Wavy responded. "I'm getting back into the swing of things. I don't think it will be causing me many more problems."

"Perfect." Without another word he wrote down a couple more notes before stepping to his right, placing himself in front of Freesia. Again, it took the man a few moments before he looked up. This time he was face to face with his target without having to tilt his head. "Alright then, miss. Name and identification number?"

"Freesia York. 780." Though it wasn't necessary, Freesia tossed in a wink. The red headed officer smiled again before returning to his notes.

"Also Gallian," he said with the smile still spread across his face. "Seems you were injured as well. Any problems?"

"No, sir. Everything's dandy."

"Wonderful." With a few more scribbles he took another step over. Though the man had been kind enough she was glad that her interrogation – as painless as it had been – was over. Fina was still up though.

Glancing up from his papers, the officer took a long look over Fina before starting his routine. The smile that had been there since Freesia's wink still covered his face. "And you, miss?"

"Fina. 823."

At that the officer's smile disappeared. With an inquisitive look, he cocked his head. "Fina?"

The sudden change in the man's mood startled the woman in front of him. With the shock a little bit of color flooded back into her face, and her eyes widened ever so slightly. "Yes, sir. Fina."

"Just Fina?"

The blonde stumbled a moment before answering. "Yes, sir."

With a sideways glance, the man's eyes swept over Wavy. Freesia noticed that as his eyes moved forward and back they paused for an instant on her. Though his target had been Wavy, she hadn't escaped his inspection either. "You don't look Darcsen," he said when his eyes had returned to the woman he was currently interrogating.

"No, sir," she said nervously. "I… I'm foreign."

"A foreigner fighting for Gallia, eh?" He paused long enough to mark the papers he was holding before looking back up into Fina's eyes. His smile had returned. "Sounds like an interesting story. I'll have to hear it sometime."

"Oh no," Fina said. Freesia wasn't sure whether Fina didn't want to talk about her home in general or if she just didn't want to talk to the officer. With how she'd handled questions about her past before even with her Squad mates, it was difficult for her to tell. The way her knees pressed together and how her hands slowly edged in front of her lap gave her away though. She didn't want to talk to him. "It's really not."

"No," the officer continued oblivious to the Gallian's body language. "You're just being modest." He began to sway as if he were going to continue on down the line, but before he actually lifted his foot to take a step he shifted is weight back. Looking between the two women in front of him he eyed Freesia and Fina one at a time before asking the once corpsman one final question. "Do you two know each other?"

Fina turned her head. Freesia was already looking straight at her. "Y-Yes, sir," she said cautiously. "All three of us were in the same unit before we were captured."

"Well, I'll be…" As his eyes darted between the Gallians, Freesia took note that they never once went far enough to focus on Wavy. She was enjoying the man's smile less and less by the minute. "Always good to have friends close by, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

Nodding, the officer finally stepped off beyond the trio and continued his way down the line. Though they would have to wait for him to finish interviewing the rest of the prisoners, Freesia felt that they would be safe to at least turn their heads without being fired upon. Fina still had an uneasy look on her face. Freesia imagined that her own expression couldn't have been much different. On her other side Wavy still held himself straight as a board. Behind his figure, the prison camp's central tower stood rising above the surrounding buildings. It was the tallest landmark in the camp, and it cut an intimidating figure framed by the rigid profile of the man next to her. Freesia could see a light on through a window on the top floor – the warden's quarters. Every time she exhaled the fog of her breath temporarily distorted her view of his stronghold. In of her time at the prison camp, she'd seen the man all of three times, and never at a close range. All of her interactions with the Imperials came through enlisted men or lower ranking officers. Most of the enlisted men were alright. The officers were pricks, but they'd been pricks back in Gallia as well, so it didn't come as much of a surprise. Some things were a given no matter what military you belonged to.

As the minutes passed, the officer doing the interrogations finally reached the last of the prisoners. Freesia couldn't tell how much time had slipped by, but it was somewhere between completely loosing feeling in her fingers and beginning to feel her toes go numb. After finishing the last of his interviews, the officer returned to the front of the assembly and waved over a number of the enlisted guards. Handing each of them one of his sheets of paper, he talked to the small group of soldiers for a moment before walking off of the grounds and disappearing farther into the prison camp.

"What do you think that was all about?" Fina mumbled. Keeping her voice low, it would have been impossible to hear her from more than a few feet away.

Freesia watched the first of the enlisted men walk up to the lines of prisoners. Looking back down at his sheet, he checked over the lists he'd been handed before pulling a prisoner out of the line. "Don't know, Blondie. I don't think we're clear yet though."

"York, stay quiet!" The stern voice to her right made her stand a little straighter. Fina had been standing too far away for her voice to have carried over to the man, but Wavy hadn't missed Freesia's response. Jumping on the chance to keep her "impulsiveness" in check, he hadn't even bothered to look; his voice had been more than forceful enough to stop her in her tracks. It might not have been fair of him to single her out – as usual – but the man was right regardless of what was fair and what wasn't. Besides, fair play hadn't really been a part of the equation since joining the Militia. Hell, it hadn't been a part of anything ever. Nobody really gave a damn about what was fair and what wasn't. In a way things were easier like that.

Unable to move, the trio of Gallians watched as each prisoner pulled out of the line was escorted from the lawn and loaded into the back of a transport truck that sat off to the side of the yard. One by one, the soldiers checked their lists and pulled people out. Once they'd escorted their prisoner to the truck, they rechecked their list and came back for another. By the time they'd finished picking people out of the lines three trucks had been filled. All three of the former 7s still stood on the prison lawn. As the trucks began to drive away, one of the enlisted Imperials walked to the front of what remained of the formation of prisoners and waved them off. Whatever had just happened was done.

Freesia took one last look at the warden's tower before turning and starting her mad dash towards warmth. If the day's events had truly been important, she figured he would have come down and addressed the prisoners himself. Looking around though, she couldn't deny that what had happened wasn't part of the ordinary routine, and the prison camp was now much emptier than it had been the day before. Several familiar faces were missing. That wasn't a new experience – even if it was the first time something like this had happened. The faces of Squad 7 seemed to have changed every time they had been pulled off the front and sent back to Randgriz. Somehow the constant losses dulled the feeling of lack that inevitably came with them. From a certain perspective, watching a fellow prisoner being shipped off wasn't a whole lot different than watching a squad mate getting smoked. Either way, it just meant they wouldn't be around anymore. Freesia was used to that long before the war started.

When she finally tore her gaze away from the warden's tower, Wavy was gone. Though a large portion of the prisoners had left, there were still enough identical uniforms around for someone to get lost in. Even though there were only two Darcsens in the camp, Freesia couldn't make out Wavy's figure in the crowd. She figured she wouldn't have much luck finding him in the chaos of the scene. Thankfully, Fina hadn't moved. The Arcadian stood with her arms wrapped around her chest, shivering and quaking in the cold of the open morning air. Almost laughing, Freesia stepped towards her friend and put her hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Hey, come on, Blondie," she said, pulling Fina along with her as she began to walk off. "If we're going to have to wait for Pops to come back, we should at least wait somewhere warm, yeah?"

Fina didn't drop her arms from around herself as she walked next to the Gallian. "Yeah," she said as she huddled closer. "Warm sounds good."

* * *

The prisoners' barracks weren't particularly well furnished – the only real furniture in the room Freesia and Fina spent their nights in consisted of two long rows of bunk beds pushed up against the walls – but it was warm enough to make it cozy when compared to the camp's parade grounds. Lying across one of the beds, they passed the rest of the morning playing poker with a deck of cards the Imperials had given them to help keep the prisoners from becoming bored and thinking of ways to escape. With a pen, the two had scribbled the names of their former Squad mates on the deck.

"I'll pass," Freesia said looking down at the cards in her hand. Wavy hadn't returned from wherever he'd wondered off to. It wasn't normal for him to wander off without telling one of the girls where he was going, but nothing about their morning had been normal, and Wavy taking some sort of initiative – or at least she _hoped _he was taking some sort of initiative – was comforting. He'd come looking for them when he needed them.

"Alright then," Fina said after drawing three new cards to replace the ones she'd discarded. "Lay down."

With a flick Freesia threw her cards down onto the bed. "Full house. Janns and O'Haras."

Fina's shoulders slumped before she followed suit. "Two pairs. Daerdens and Wulfstans…"

Freesia gave a quick chuckle at Fina's hand. Twos and threes. Sweeping the cards off of the mattress, she tossed them back onto the pile and began to reshuffle the deck. She almost wished they had something to bet with. Fina didn't seem to have a whole lot of luck when it came to cards, and even when she did Freesia could read her like an open book. Back when she could play with the rest of Squad 7 she'd routinely doubled her salary before everyone got wise and stopped playing with her. Now she could play all she wanted, but she didn't get the reward that went with it. Personal satisfaction only went so far.

With the deck shuffled, Freesia began to deal the cards. She hadn't laid four down before a voice from the entrance of their building made her stop. "Hey, Fina. Freesia. You guys have a visitor."

Freesia dropped the remaining cards and looked towards the door. The woman who'd called to them hadn't stuck around to make sure they received the message. Sighing, she rolled herself off of the bed and made her way across the room. She had a pretty good idea of who the visitor was.

She was proven right when she stepped out of the bunk and into the cold outside. Near the door, Wavy stood waiting for the two women to step out next to him. Men weren't allowed in the women's barracks, so all of their important meetings within the camp had to take place outside. As the year got colder, the two women saw less and less of their old Squad mate when they weren't on work rotation. On one hand it was sad that they couldn't spend as much time with a familiar face, but on the other Freesia got lectured less. It was a tradeoff, and one she admittedly wished she didn't have to make. "Ladies," he greeted as he let the door he'd held open for the women as they stepped out swing shut. Lecturer or no, the man had class.

"And just where the Hell have you been?" Freesia didn't.

By his reaction Wavy had expected as much. He merely rolled his eyes behind his glasses before explaining himself. "Well," he said as his breath floated through the air in front of him, "I took a stroll around the camp. Tried to get an idea of what happed this morning."

"Did you find anything?" Fina asked.

"Nothing specific. At least, nothing about _why _the prisoners were taken. Or where."

"But you did find something?"

Wavy smiled at the girl. "Something," he answered. "Seems everyone who was pulled out was Gallian."

The two women looked at each other. There were more than just Gallians held in the camp. If only Gallians had been pulled out there must have been a specific reasoning to their departure. Freesia could tell something important was going on, but she didn't know what. "So what does that mean?"

"Think about it for a second, York."

Freesia gave a frustrated grimace. As far as she knew it could have been anything. If Wavy had a guess as to what the event had meant, he may as well have just told them. Instead, everything was about deductive reasoning. Bullshit. In the end, it only made her head hurt. Luckily, Fina spoke up for her instead. "A prisoner exchange."

"That would be my bet," Wavy said. He was clearly happy that the woman had come up with the correct answer, but there was something distinctly grave about his smile.

"So what's with the glum face," Freesia asked. "Isn't it a good thing?"

"Not necessarily. If they took this many Gallians from this camp just think of how many they took from the others, and if they're pulling out this many prisoners in an exchange the war must not be going well back home."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

If nothing else, Freesia had to commend Wavy's self control. He had a lot more to lose back in Gallia than she did. The Imps would pay for a show just the same as any Gallian would. Wavy had a family, and after seeing what had happened in Fouzen… "Did you ask around about the war at all?"

"Yes," he said adjusting his glasses, "I asked. Nobody knows anything. The most recent prisoners here were from the offensive at Naggiar, and that was nearly two months ago. Nobody knows anything past that, or even how that battle ended."

Fina put her hands on her hips and dropped her eyes a notch. "If Gallia's so needy for troops it must have been a loss."

"I'm afraid I can't argue with that logic. Fortunately for us though, there may still be a way to find out how everything went."

"And how do we do that if nobody knows how the war went?" Freesia asked.

Wavy gave another half smile. "Another prisoner knows a way for us to get what we want. We were talking near a guard post, so he wouldn't go into any details. I told him to meet me here. He should be by in just a moment or two."

Freesia let Wavy's voice fade out of her mind as the group waited. Instead of focusing on what he was saying she let her thoughts fall on the Squad members they'd left back in Gallia. They were probably still fighting the war – those who had survived this long, at least. Months had passed since they'd been captured, and there had been at least one large battle that the prisoners knew about in the time since – and from the sound of things it hadn't gone well. The Squad roster had to be replaced after nearly every engagement as it was; large scale trench warfare didn't sound promising. Lance Corporal Mayfield had fought in the trenches, and the stories he told of the combat nearly gave Freesia nightmares – not that the modern combat she'd seen didn't already. Though she wasn't thrilled at being a prisoner, the thought that it may have saved her life had crossed her mind more than a few times.

Still, she couldn't help but think about the people she'd left back home. Last she knew Salinas had been hit in the shoulder. He hadn't even made it out of the landing craft at Marberry. Though it wasn't fatal, it had been a pretty rough shot, and it would probably leave a nasty scar. That was a shame. Salinas was a good catch. The scar wouldn't matter though. At least not to her. She'd have one of her own running across her stomach. _That _one would be a killer, at least profit wise. Freesia wasn't too worried about that at the moment though, and all told she wasn't too worried about Salinas. Another 7 had caught her mind, and it was _him _she was really worried about.

Before her mind could wander too far, a flick of Wavy's arm brought her back into the prison camp. Turning her head, she could see another prisoner making his way towards the trio. She recognized him – Rick Taylor, a fellow Gallian; this one from the Royal Guard. Nobody knew for sure how the man had been captured, and he was particularly cautious about giving out information on the details of his final moments in Gallia's military, but Freesia had a nagging suspicion that it couldn't have been anything good. The going rumor was that he'd been captured in Alliance Federation territory, which would explain the man's silence. Confirmed news of a Gallian Special Forces soldier operating within Federation boarders would turn an already bleak situation for Gallia hopeless.

As the man walked up to the group, Wavy extended his hand. "Rick, glad you're willing to help."

The other Gallian glanced down at Wavy's hand as if he weren't exactly sure what he was supposed to do with it. After a half second of surprise, he regained his composure and extended his own arm. "No problem, sir. I'm actually a bit curious myself."

For not recognizing a handshake as a handshake, Freesia was astounded that the man was still saying "sir". For one, nobody really cared anymore within the prison camp. For two, the man had been a staff sergeant. Wavy had only been a corporal. The older man didn't object to the gesture though. In fact, Wavy seemed pleased. "I'll be sure to let you know what I find," he said with a smile. It was full this time. "We have to find it first, though. You said there was someone who could tell us anything we needed to know. How could a prisoner know anything about how the war's going?"

"He can know because he's not a prisoner." Although the man was always a bit cautious about what he said, Freesia could see that Rick was a bit more on guard than he usually was. In fact, he almost seemed apprehensive about telling them what he knew. "One of the guard staff here is willing to dish out supplies or information to prisoners. Of course, he doesn't do it for free, and you didn't hear any of this from me."

"Woah." Freesia could hardly contain herself, and upon hearing who their information would be coming from she took a step towards the messenger. Surprised, the man took a half shuffle back before realizing she wasn't going to be attacking him. "You mean an Imp?"

"Yeah. He'll deal with prisoners as long as there's something in it for him. I wouldn't trust him, either. I've never met him myself, but from what I've heard he's not somebody you want to fuck around with."

"Noted," Wavy said. "As long as we're all on our best behavior, I don't think that's going to be an issue. Is it, Freesia?"

The woman gave an exasperated sigh. "No."

"Good," he said before turning back towards the Royal Guard soldier. "Now, how do we find this man?"

Turning his upper body, Rick pointed towards a cluster of buildings on the far side of the prison camp. "He's set himself up in store room B. Just walk in; he'll take things from there. Usually he won't deal with people he doesn't reach out to himself, but as long as the three of you go in as a group I have a feeling he'll make an exception."

"What do you mean?"

Rick cleared his throat before bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. "Well," he started. If he didn't want to say anything before, he definitely didn't want to continue on now. "He doesn't just let people walk in and deal with him. Too risky. But… Well, if you wanted to just walk in you would have to be a seven."

"Oh, that's convenient," Fina said happily. "We were all 7s."

The man laughed a little before responding. "No. Not your unit. I mean…" Struggling for words, he opted to just point instead. With his arm, he waved over the spot where Fina and Freesia were standing together.

Following the man's hand, Fina let her eyes trace its path. "Oh," she said when she realized that he was gesturing towards the two women. "Seven like _that_."

"Yeah. Like that."

Wavy let his face drop into his hand. Rubbing his forehead, he took a moment to gather his thoughts. "Alright. As long as I'm there with you I don't think there's too much danger in just talking to him. All we want is information. We go in, get what we need, and we get out. If I leave, you girls come with me. Are we clear?"

"Yeah," Fina said. "We're clear."

Wavy waited for a second answer. When he didn't get it, he fished for it. "York?"

"Fine."

"As long as we're clear on that," he said sternly. Softening his expression, he once again reached his hand out. "Rick, thank you for the tip. I'll be sure to let you know what we find out as soon as we get back."

"No problem, sir. Good luck." Before leaving, he looked over to where Freesia and Fina were standing. With a nod, he turned around and walked off.

Fina watched the man's back as he left. When he turned out of sight, she sniffed and looked towards Wavy. "So?"

"I don't think we have any other choice," the man said. Watching him, Freesia felt that as long as he was around the two women would be safe. He did everything he could to single her out and scold her for just about anything she did, but Freesia knew he would die before he let anything happen to either of them. That's why he was their squad leader. Extending his arm, the Darcsen waved them forward. "Shall we?"

* * *

Store room B didn't look different than any of the surrounding buildings, but knowing what waited for them inside made it seem like the most important building in the camp. In a way, maybe it was. For months the Gallians had waited without even knowing the date. Store room B gave them access to anything they could have ever possibly wanted. At least, anything that could be acquired within a prison camp. That was still more than what Freesia could have hoped for. Her hopes were dashed the instant the building's door opened ahead of them.

A young woman in a prisoner's uniform walked out clutching a small parcel to her chest. She hadn't seen the three Gallians approaching, but they'd seen her. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that the woman was crying. Pulling ahead of the group, Freesia began to step towards her. "Hey," she said holding out her hand, "are you alright?"

Startled, the crying woman jumped and let out a quick yelp. After the shock faded, her eyes settled on the group approaching her. She only sobbed harder. Turning away, she ran off before Freesia could make it over to her. From the looks of things, she was clinging so tightly to the parcel in her arms that she would have nearly crushed whatever had been inside. Freesia stopped in her tracks and watched the woman run away. She didn't seem to know where she was going. Freesia didn't look away from the running prisoner when a hand placed itself on her shoulder. "You'd better let me go first," Wavy said pulling her back.

Walking ahead of the two women, Wavy stepped up to the door of the building. For the entire walk to the structure they'd listened to him lecture about how they needed to behave and how they needed to be especially careful of the man they were looking for. Wavy was a gentleman, and as always he would make sure the women were safe. Freesia appreciated that. In fact, Wavy was very charming, and she'd meant what she'd said about him being 16 years younger. She also wished he would realize that she was still a soldier. Young and disillusioned, almost certainly, but still a soldier nonetheless. She could take care of herself – or so she'd thought before that woman had stepped out. Now she wasn't so sure.

Taking a deep breath, Wavy turned the door's handle and pushed it open. Before he'd even stepped through the doorframe a voice stopped him in his tracks. "Hey! Who the Hell are you? No prisoners are allowed in here. Get the Hell out."

Stunned, Wavy could do nothing but stare at the Imperial officer who had done the yelling. When he came back to his senses he took another step into the room. "What the fuck did I just tell you?" the voice came again. "Step back or I'll put a Goddamn round through your skull. I'm not kidding around, I'll –"

"Hello?" Lightly pushing Wavy to the side, Freesia walked through the doorframe and ahead into the room. Standing behind a large desk was the same redheaded officer that had questioned them earlier that morning. His handgun was drawn and pointed at the Gallian man standing behind her. "I was told you were willing to help a lady out. Am I in the right place?"

Stunned himself, the officer slowly let his arm fall. Suddenly smiling, he dropped the gun into a drawer and stepped around the desk. "Woah," he said, suddenly considerate. "I am so sorry about that. I could have sworn you guys were those prisoners who tried to come here and steal my supplies last night." His eyes lit up again as Fina stepped into the room. "Please excuse me, I can't believe myself. Come in, have a seat. My name is Lieutenant Kirtland."

As he moved back behind his desk Freesia took note of his rank insignia. He was a first lieutenant. Grabbing a chair, she sat down across from him. Wavy took the chair in the middle before Fina could sit. When all three of them were settled down, the officer laced his fingers and sat back. The grin never left his face. "So, are you all doing well today? I apologize again if I frightened you. I've had some trouble with some of the prisoners lately. They seem to think I'm running a welfare service here."

"Of course, sir," Wavy began. "We were just wondering if we could take a moment of your–"

"Oh, hey! Wait just one second," the officer interrupted. Lifting his arm, he pointed towards Fina. "You're the foreigner who's fighting for –" His smile slipped for a moment, and was replaced by a cautious look. He was being extraordinarily careful about what he was about to – or wasn't about to – say. He covered the gap in speech with a mock coughing fit. "Well," he continued after a fake recovery, "in any case you're the foreigner. I remember you guys. Where exactly did you say you were from again?"

"Arcadia," Fina answered.

"Ah, the Amacian Republic." Freesia blew a breath of relief when the officer misheard her friend. If he'd heard her actual response he might not have been too happy to have a prisoner making up stories when he was looking for answers. "So, you come from across the pond. Not too often you see your type around here these days. Quite a treat."

Fina gave a nervous chuckle. "Yeah."

"Well, I am truly blessed then. So, what exactly can I do for you all?"

"We're… looking for something," Freesia said. Wavy was a smart man. It seemed he'd picked up on the hint that they'd make it farther if the women did most of the talking. He didn't look like he liked it, but he would grudgingly accept it.

"Alright. What exactly are you looking for?"

Placing her index finger on the desk in front of her, Freesia drew invisible circles on the table's surface. "Something I've heard you might have."

The officer's eyes were glued to Freesia's finger. She had him in the palm of her hand. "And what exactly might that be?"

"Information."

Letting out a low whistle, Kirtland lifted his eyes off of Freesia's finger and back to her face. They paused for an instant somewhere in between the two. "Information doesn't come easy, miss. It's a dangerous thing in a place like this."

"Well, I was kind of hoping we could come to a deal."

"A deal, eh?" The man gave her a sly look. "We could do that. I'll warn you though, information doesn't come cheap, and my prices can be pretty stiff."

He was melting in front of her. Another wink and a bite of her lower lip and she would have been able to rob the man blind. "I wouldn't put it past you to drive a hard bargain, but I'm a pretty decent haggler myself. Besides, I think we can pay the price."

At that the officer beamed. "It's settled then," he exclaimed clapping his hands together. "I'll tell you anything you want to know for the price of one blowjob."

Freesia choked on the air suddenly escaping her lungs. "Excuse me?"

The officer's smile hadn't faded at her fit. In fact, his expression hadn't changed at all. "You know," he said reasonably, "you get down on your knees, and I –"

"I know what it is," Freesia shot back with a glare. She could feel the blood rushing into her face. "Do I look like a prostitute to you?"

The man's smile finally faded, but instead of being replaced by anger or repentance it was replaced with a meek expression. "Well, no, but… I mean, you look like you _could _be."

She was speechless. A moment ago he'd been under her heel. Now they'd switched places. "I… No. Absolutely not."

"Fair enough," he said with a shrug. "How about you, foreigner?"

Fina looked as if her stomach had just dropped through her feet. "Me?"

"Yeah. You want to give it a go?"

"She doesn't want to give anything a go," Wavy cut in. "Now either get serious or we're walking."

Grumbling, the officer rolled his eyes. They stopped when the fell on Wavy's hand. "That's a nice ring you've got there."

"It's not for sale."

"Yeah, yeah," the officer said. "Of course not." Tapping his fingers against the table, he looked the trio of Gallians over. It seemed he was willing to bargain in order to come to some sort of a deal with the group. One by one his eyes fell over the prisoners sitting across the desk from him. This time they focused on Wavy just as long as they focused on the two women flanking him. "Alright, I'm sorry. I was moving a little fast. I took you for something you're not, and for that I apologize."

Still on edge, Freesia relaxed a little in her seat. "So you're willing to deal?"

"Yes. I'm willing to deal."

"OK then." Freesia leaned forward and placed her forearms on the edge of the desk. The move wasn't meant to seduce him this time – it was completely professional. "What's it going to take?"

"Handjobs," he replied without missing a beat. "But pricewise all things still have to be equal, so it's got to be one from each of you this time."

Groaning, Freesia threw her arms up before standing from her chair. "Go fuck yourself."

"OK, that's not fair," Kirtland said. By the look on his face it was clear that he thought he was the one being wronged. "You know that's not the same thing."

"I think we've heard enough." Following Freesia's lead, Wavy stood up and began to make his way towards the door. "Come on, girls. We're getting out of here."

"Woah, hey, hold on a second."

"No, we're leaving."

"Stop!" When the Gallians continued towards the door, the Imperial officer jumped out of his own chair. Springing around the desk, he stopped behind the chairs his guests had been sitting in. "Alright, fine. I'll tell you what you want to know, just come back here."

Wavy didn't stop. It wasn't until Freesia put a hand on his chest that the man ended his jaunt to the exit. "Tell us?"

"That's right," Kirtland said. "I'll tell you."

"For free?"

"For free. I forgot that this was your first time visiting me. All guests get their first request on the house. That is what a nice guy I am."

It was a lie. Freesia knew it. He knew it. Everyone probably knew it. That didn't stop it from being a good deal. "You're just trying to get your foot in the door," Wavy said flatly.

"And you're just trying to get information." Without turning away, Kirtland stepped back around the desk and sat down. "Which I am willing to provide. For free. Do you want to take it?"

Wavy looked over the man on the other side of the desk carefully. He sat with a neutral expression. It didn't change no matter how long or hard Wavy stared. Giving up, he glanced back over towards Freesia. She gave a slight nod towards the chairs they'd just left. Nodding himself, he put a hand on Fina's shoulder before sitting back down. "Alright. We'll take it."

Kirtland was smiling again, but now he looked slightly annoyed. He hadn't been planning on giving anything away. "Good to hear. What exactly do you want to know?"

"We want to know how the war is going," Fina said.

Licking his lips, the Imperial lieutenant sat back in his chair before letting out a long sigh. Once more he looked over each of the Gallians individually. This time he took even longer. "This is a bit tricky," he said finally. Any joy in his voice that had carried over from the beginning of the conversation was now gone. "You see, if I tell you how the war is going, I might as well be telling the entire camp. I know how you guys talk. I have a hard enough time keeping my little business under wraps as it is. News of the war would spread like wildfire. It's dangerous stuff, too. Nobody can tell how a camp full of prisoners is going to react when they find out how things are on the outside."

"We had a deal."

"That we did," he admitted, "and I'm a man of my word. Still, I wonder…"

Freesia leaned forward on the desk again. She didn't really want to be any closer to the man on the other side than she had to be, but she considered it a necessary discomfort. "Just tell us what we need to know and we'll get out of your business."

Smirking slightly, Kirtland mirrored Freesia's movement forward. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know." Reaching back, he mussed his hair before looking her in the eyes. "OK, but be careful what you do with this. We just began another big offensive. Everything's been bogged down in Artois though. It's pretty much become one big stalemate. I wouldn't expect the war to end anytime soon."

Freesia and Fina cocked their heads. Wavy knew the area the officer had been talking about though. "That's the war in the Federation," he said. "We want to know about Gallia."

"What do you guys care about the Gallian war?"

"Free information or not," Wavy began, "my patience for this is starting to run thin. What's happening in Gallia?"

"Nothing," Kirtland said. "War's over. Maxa-whatever the Hell that idiot's name was dropped the ball. Gallia's a sovereign state. Goddamn embarrassment if you ask me."

For a long time nobody was able to say anything. The faces of her former Squad mates flashed through Freesia's head. If they were still alive, they were living in peace. "The war is… over?"

"In Gallia, at least. Max got offed, and nobody else in the Alliance gave a damn enough about Gallia to waste their time taking over where he left off."

The three Gallians looked at each other. "So… what happens to the prisoners?" Fina asked.

"What prisoners?" The confused look on the officer's face looked suspiciously like a smile to Freesia.

"The ones in your camps. What are you doing with everyone?"

"All of the prisoners are sent back home. It was part of the surrender. If we really wanted to we could have steamrolled through that country in a matter of days, but, like I said, nobody really cared except for Max. Instead we just went along with whatever treaty they wrote out. Return of all POWs was part of the deal for both sides."

"Yes," Wavy said. He was sitting straight up in his seat again. It seemed he was willing to forgive the Imperial a few slip ups in favor of perfect posture. "So when do we get to go?"

"Hm?" Kirtland's look of confusion would have fooled most people. Freesia grudgingly admitted that the man was a good actor.

"Back to Gallia," Wavy clarified.

"You're not going back to Gallia."

The words hit the trio like a club. After another long silence, Wavy pulled his glasses off of his face and set them down on the table in front of him. His voice was weak compared to the strong and sturdy one Freesia had known before. "I don't understand."

"What's not to understand?" Kirtland asked with a sly smile. "Gallians go back to Gallia. We shipped the last of them off this morning. You three are citizens of the Atlantic Federation."

Freesia heard the words, but they didn't translate to anything she could work with. A million thoughts ran through her head. None of them meant anything. She couldn't pull any one of them out long enough to figure out what it actually meant. Instead, she let her mind wander to wherever it had decided to go and shut down for a little while. She was better off without it anyway. Freesia couldn't think or move. Sitting in place was about the most complex activity she could handle at the moment – so that's what she did.


	4. Blue

**Blue**

"And just who the fuck do they think they are?"

Standing in the center of the small prisoner's barracks, Freesia could see by the expressions of the eight faces surrounding her that the outburst hadn't surprised anyone. In fact, she hardly got a reaction at all. She probably shouldn't have been surprised herself – her last four or so tantrums hadn't stirred anyone either – but she was. Nobody seemed to care that they'd been held past their due, or at least nobody seemed willing to do anything about it. More than surprised, however, was just plain frustrated. Freesia was sure that as soon as the word got out that the Imperials were holding them illegally there would be a revolt. Reality didn't quite live up to her expectations.

"You're not helping, York." Wavy hadn't looked up as he spoke. He continued to stare half despondently down at the floor between his feet. The man's tone had changed though, and it was hard to miss the patronizing quality to his voice as he forced the words out.

"Oh, _I'm _not helping?" Glancing around the room, Freesia let her eyes fall on every one of the other faces present. Most of them didn't look back. She hoped it was out of shame.

"No, York, you're not. Now take a seat. We're not going to get anywhere with ranting and cursing." Wavy's voice was stronger this time. If there'd been any debate as to the condescending tone he'd used before the reproach was unmistakable this time. "Now sit back down and we'll talk this over like _people._" Freesia locked eyes with the man still sitting across the room. If anybody would have understood how she felt she would have expected it to be him. Desperately searching, she couldn't find a trace of the empathy she'd hoped to find in his eyes. Back in Gallia, Freesia never would have expected to see the expression Wavy now wore on the man. It almost looked like something Musaad would have used to keep the troops in line. Where she'd failed to surprise the group before, Wavy succeeded with his scowl.

Unable to hold eye contact for long, Freesia turned away and gave a frustrated sigh. "Alright, fine." The walk back to her seat was nearly unbearable. Though she knew that every eye in the room was on the floor, she imagined their thoughts burning into her back. She wished those thoughts had been thoughts of anger. Outrage. Something – even if they were aimed at her. She knew they weren't. All she read in their postures was pity.

Flopping back down into her seat, Freesia took a moment to stretch back before settling into her place in the circle. Bringing her hands over her face, she relished the absolute darkness that obscured her vision as she covered her eyes. There wasn't anything to worry about there. Freesia held the position for a couple of seconds. She hoped that when she lifted her hands from her eyes somebody would be doing something. People would be getting ready to act. She already knew that wasn't going to be the case. Even though she'd seen it coming, she was still disappointed when she opened her eyes and saw that nobody had moved. How could everybody sit so Goddamn still? It took everything Freesia had to keep herself from running out the door and slugging the warden herself.

Nobody seemed willing to speak up. Whether it was because nobody knew what to say or because nobody had anything to say at all, the room remained silent. Of the eight speechless bodies in the room, Freesia felt most betrayed by the four nearest to her. The Gallians. Fina was to her immediate left, and just beyond her sat Rick. Nearest to the door, he stared intently at the heavy wooden barrier, almost as if he expected something to crash through it at any moment. Though he struck Freesia as slightly paranoid, she had to admit that she was grateful for his extra caution. If any guards were to walk in on them explaining why there were women in the men's barracks would be the least of their problems. Still, any respect for the man that she may have felt inclined to feel for the moment was washed away by the fact that he sat just as silent as everyone else. Turning her head away in disgust, Freesia caught a slight movement from Fina as she fell out of sight. A nod. At least _someone _was willing to do something.

Turning to her right, she could see Wavy, still staring at the floor. She knew he had the same goal of trying to convince the four Federation prisoners in the room that escape was in everyone's benefit, but he wasn't being very proactive about accomplishing the task. He'd always been cool and composed, even under fire. If there was one thing that had comforted her in the heaviest of firefights, it was knowing that whatever happened, Wavy would always be level headed enough to see them through. Now his stoicism just irritated her.

Further to his right, the final Gallian in the room sat with his arms across his chest. Isaac. The only other Darcsen in the camp. After leaving Kirtland's warehouse he was the first man Wavy turned to. A whole lot of good that had done. The two of them should have been furious after what the Imperial Alliance had done to their people. If they really were upset, neither of the men showed it. Unfortunately, that didn't do a whole lot in the way of convincing the four Federation prisoners across from them that they should help the Gallians escape. "Alright," Freesia said, finally breaking the silence. "I'm seated. What's the deal?" Sitting still for the first time since hearing the news from Kirtland, she waited for somebody to speak up. Nobody took the opening she'd provided. "Anybody?"

"Give us just a second, York." Slowly but surely, Wavy lifted his head. When he'd squared it with his shoulders, he brought his hands up to adjust his glasses. The process took far too long for Freesia's liking, but at least it was something. When the glasses finally found their spot on the bridge of the man's nose, Wavy leaned forward again and set his gaze on the four people across from him. "As much as I disagree with my companion's attitude, she's right. We can't stay here."

Vindication at last. Though the feeling surged through her, Freesia was able to hide the smug smile that hid just behind her lips. For as much as she currently hated Wavy's stoic calm, smugness wasn't an emotion she wanted anybody else seeing. It wouldn't do to make them feel as if she believed she were superior to them. Of the four Federation prisoners in the room, she only really knew two of them – Colin Walsh and Mary Falk. There was no telling how the other two would react. They hadn't been invited anyway. As soon as Wavy had informed Isaac of the trouble they were all in, the group went straight to Rick. He'd decided that they would need at least two more helping hands if they were going to be able to effectively carry out an escape – two more people they could trust. Colin and Mary were his choices. The other two were only in the room because they were unfortunate enough to walk in at an inopportune time and overhear some of what the large man guarding the door considered "sensitive information". They didn't look like they wanted to be there, but by the way Rick watched the door it was pretty clear that he wasn't just worried about what was coming in. The two had reluctantly introduced themselves, but Freesia couldn't remember their names off hand.

Though Wavy had clearly addressed the Federation prisoners, none of them responded right away. That seemed to be a common theme throughout the meeting, and Freesia wasn't sure how much more of it she could take. "So?" she asked, lifting her hand as if to indicate that any one of the prisoners could answer.

The four prisoners shifted uncomfortably, and with a sideways glance Mary and Colin locked eyes. After sharing a few shrugs and nods, Mary took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Um… Look," she said when she finally opened them again. "I don't mean to be a bitch or anything, but… what does this have to do with us?"

Freesia's jaw nearly hit the floor. After what they'd just told the group she'd expected everyone, Federation and Gallian alike to be outraged. She had no delusions that people would actually care about things that wouldn't affect them, but she figured that the current situation hit close enough to home to get everyone in the camp riled up. Freesia didn't like being wrong, and especially not about judging people. "You don't _mean _to be a bitch?"

"Hey," the other woman responded raising her hands, "I'm just saying–"

"What you're saying is it's not your problem."

"I'm saying that we shouldn't jump the gun."

"No," Freesia said forcefully. "What you're saying is–"

Wavy's arm was in front of her before she could finish the sentence. "Hold up just a minute, York," he said. Though he was telling her to stop, his tone was softer this time. Whatever he thought she was about to say, she felt as if a small part of him must have agreed with her. "It's a legitimate question."

She didn't see much legitimacy to it, but as long as people were actually talking she decided to let Wavy have his way. Sitting back, she once again lifted her hand, signaling for the other woman to continue. Colin spoke up instead. "I think what she means to say," he started delicately, "is, 'are we really sure this is necessary.'"

"How couldn't it be," Freesia asked.

"Well," he said, "can we trust this guy?"

"What do you mean?"

Colin mussed his hair before continuing. "The guy who gave you the information. Can we trust that it's accurate?"

Sighing, Freesia thought for a moment. All she could picture was Kirtland's beady eyes appraising the area between her shoulders and her stomach. "No," she said. "But I know he was telling the truth about this, if nothing else. Just… the way he said it… the way he carried himself… he wasn't lying. Not about this."

"And you're positive about that?"

Freesia didn't hesitate this time. "Yes."

Colin nodded. Glancing towards the floor for a moment, he sat back in his chair. "I understand how you feel, but this is a big deal. We can't go making decisions like this off of hunches."

Groaning, Freesia sagged her shoulders and dropped her head into her hand. "He was telling the truth, Walsh."

The man shook his head. "You can't know that."

"Yes I can." Raising her head a bit, knew she must have looked pathetic slouched forward in her chair. As much as she hated it, looking helpless had its advantages – especially when talking to men. "Even so… even if he was lying – which he wasn't – do you really want to stay here until the end of the war? Whenever that might be?"

Once more Colin and Mary shared a quick glance. Freesia knew the war in the Federation had been at a standstill for nearly a full year before they'd arrived at the camp. Who knew how long it would be before the war's end? "Think of it this way," Mary said, "The war can't go on forever. If what the man said was true and you're all classified as citizens of the Federation now, you'll just be released with us when everything ends. We're guaranteed freedom eventually. If we try to escape and fail…"

"Yeah, yeah." The sound of the gunshots she'd heard the last time a prisoner tried to escape played through Freesia's mind. She'd heard gunfire throughout her time in Squad 7, but these ones seemed all the more ominous for the fact that the man on the receiving end didn't have a weapon with which to fight back with. "I know what'll happen."

"I think we should just wait it out."

Freesia could feel her fist begin to clench. She couldn't find a flaw in the woman's logic, but she'd never been one for thinking things through anyway. Fuck logic. As long as she was surrounded by walls and armed guards, she didn't care whether or not Kirtland had been telling the truth. She wanted out, and she wanted out yesterday.

Thankfully, Wavy was there to provide the brainpower. "Assuming, as you just were, that the man w_as_ telling the truth, how can we know that they'll really ever let us go. If they make us Atlantic Federation prisoners now, how do we know that when the time comes they won't just make us political prisoners from Fhirald?" Freesia watched as the man's words sunk in. Mary was taken aback. She hadn't expected a counterargument like that. Wavy might have gotten the ball rolling slowly, but once it was going there wasn't any stopping it. "You know what they do to those guys when they're done with them," he concluded darkly.

Freesia almost smiled. That was it. Hook, line, and sinker. The stunned faces of the Federation prisoners across the circle sealed the deal. Now all that was left to do was decide on a plan of escape. She had no ideas herself, but Rick seemed to have an idea or two. "That settles it, then," she said smiling. "Now all that's left is to–"

"I still don't think it's a good idea," Colin said from his chair.

Freesia was on her feet before she'd even realized she'd started moving. In her rush to stand up her chair toppled over behind her. Wavy would certainly have a thing or two to say about her behavior – hopefully later than sooner. "Oh, Goddammit!" she yelled, throwing her hands into the air. "Are you guys ever going to grow a pair or are we all just going to die here?"

"York," Wavy's voice called sternly. "Sit back down."

Wavy's talks weren't getting anywhere. They didn't have time for talking anyway. Who could talk at a time like that? She should have been on her way back to Gallia. Freesia couldn't remember the last time she'd had a home, but she knew where she did and didn't belong, and she didn't belong in that camp. "This is ridiculous."

"I said sit down."

She couldn't stop moving. How could everybody sit so Goddamn still? Nobody else moved. Fina just watched. The girl didn't even look concerned. Why didn't anybody else care? The stillness of the room tore into her. She needed out. "Well I'm sorry," she said to Wavy before shooting a glare towards the four prisoners across from where she'd been sitting. "I just didn't realize the Federation conscripted pussies."

In a blur of motion, Wavy was on his own feet. Freesia had seen him get up, but the stages of movement between his position in the chair and his final colossal stand in front of her faded from memory the moment they'd passed. All of a sudden he was towering above her. She knew she looked helpless again. It wasn't on purpose this time. "York!" he boomed, "That's enough!"

She'd wanted to see some sort of action from the man. Now that she'd gotten what she'd wished for, Freesia was terrified. "Wavy, I–"

"You'll wait outside," he said. Still standing, he glared down at her through his glasses. "You're not helping anyone here, least of all yourself. I think we all know where you stand on the issue anyway. We'll come get you when we've talked things through."

"Wavy…"

It only took one word to send the woman packing. "Go."

Awestricken, Freesia hobbled towards the exit. Of all the people in the room, Wavy was supposed to have been on her side. Lost in her own mind, she almost didn't see the man still blocking her way. "Sir," Rick said as Freesia stopped in front of him, "I don't think–"

"Let her through," Wavy answered.

Though Rick had been calling most of the shots before, it was clear to everyone in the room who was really the dominant figure. With a light shrug, the Royal Guardsman stepped out of Freesia's way and let her through.

She didn't care who saw her leave. Stepping out of the men's barracks, Freesia let out a growl as she kicked the dirt outside of the building, sending clouds of dust into the air around her ankles. She'd never expected anything to be fair. Not the war. Not the prison camp. Not even normal life on the outside. She _had _expected to be treated decently, especially by the group she considered her friends – or at least what was left of them.

Dropping herself down onto a patch of grass next to the building, she leaned her back against the barrack's exterior and reached her hand down into her pants near her right hip. The prisoner's uniforms didn't have pockets, but the people wearing them had found a couple of makeshift ways of storing valuables on their person. Pulling out the pack of cards she'd brought along with her, Freesia began to slowly flip through the deck. As each card passed through her hand, she let it fall to the ground at her feet. It must have taken her a good ten minutes to make it through a quarter of the deck, but by the time she reached "Alex Raymond" Freesia heard footsteps approaching from the door. Looking up she could see Fina approaching. The girl's expression hadn't changed from the one she'd worn inside. Still slightly despondent, she tried to give a light smile as she sat down next to Freesia. Though her mouth went through the motions, her eyes wouldn't commit to the gesture.

Letting Alex's card join the others at her feet, Freesia pulled the next one out and flipped it over in her hand. "So what do you think?" she asked, holding up Karl Landzaat's card for both of them to see. "Still alive?"

Fina took a long look at the card before responding. "I'd like to think they're all still alive," she answered.

"Yeah…" Letting Karl's card fall, Freesia drew the next one in line. Nils Daerden. "But do you really believe that?"

Fina gave another moment's thought before shaking her head. "No."

With a flick of her wrist, Freesia watched Nils's card fall out of her hands. She had to pause a moment when she saw the next card in the deck. Salinas Milton. Realizing she was about to break down, Freesia quickly dropped the card and changed the subject. "So what where they saying?"

"Inside?"

"Yeah."

Fina stretched her legs out and placed her hands on her knees. "More of the same. They're mostly going in circles, but I think Wavy's got them mostly won over."

"Has he?" Freesia asked absently. Somehow now that she was out of that room nothing seemed as urgent as it had before. She knew that as soon as she stepped back into the circle she'd lose her head again, but at least for the moment everything was calm. Not caring was nice. "Hey Fina?"

"Hm?"

"How do you stay so composed all the time?"

Fina turned her head towards the other woman. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Freesia said with a shrug. "Forget it."

Turning away, Fina plucked a long blade of grass from out of the ground near where she was sitting. Holding it in front of her face, its details came in and out of Freesia's focus as the fog of the girl's breath floated over it. "You know he's just hard on you because he likes you, right?"

Freesia laughed. "What, Wavy?"

"Yeah."

Still smiling, Freesia dropped her head. The cards near her feet and in her lap filled her vision. "It's not like he has much of a choice."

"Even so," Fina said.

When Freesia looked back up she could see the girl was smiling. "You know," she said laughing again, "you weren't supposed to agree with me on that one."

Fina winked. "Oops."

As the two Gallians continued to laugh, the door to the barracks cracked open nearby. Turning her head, Freesia could see Rick poke his head out. Carefully checking to make sure there wasn't anybody watching, he waved over to the women sitting against the wall. "We're ready," he said just loud enough for them to hear. "Make sure nobody's watching and come back in." With that, his head disappeared behind the doorframe and the door swung shut.

"Shall we?" Fina asked standing up.

"Yeah." Glancing down, Freesia could see that the deck of cards she'd been going through still lay on the ground in front of her. "You go on ahead," she said, bending forward to pick them up. "I'll be right behind you."

"Sure."

While Fina slipped inside the barracks, Freesia began to gather the cards into a neat pile. She paused when they had all been stacked together. Taking a quick moment, she quickly shuffled through the deck and pulled out the card she'd been looking for. The king of spades. Placing the rest of the deck back into the makeshift pocket at her right hip, she slid the single card she'd pulled out into the small pouch she'd assembled at her left.

By the time she'd made it back into the room Fina was already seated. There weren't any other distractions to keep the eyes of everybody waiting in their seats off of her. Freesia didn't care that most of them were staring. There was only one set of eyes in the room she didn't think she could bear. When she looked over to where Wavy was seated she was greeted by his ever present blank expression. After a long moment of staring back, the man nodded.

Freesia let out a breath of air. For at least the moment she was off the hook. "So?" she asked as she found her seat.

"First things first," Wavy said. "If we're going to do this, nobody outside this room can know."

"What?" While most of the Gallians in the camp had been sent away, there were more left over than were just in the room with her. "Why?"

"Security," Rick said from the door.

"From who? You really think a Gallain's going to rat us all out to the people who are holding him past the war's end?"

"Yeah," the man said. "I do. Especially if this Kirtland guy is like you said he was. There's no telling what he'd offer people for information on an escape plot, and from the sound of things he's got enough to keep somebody nice and comfy for a long time, prisoner or no."

Grimacing, Freesia silently nodded. The man had a good point. "Make that clear," Wavy repeated. "Nobody knows." Though he'd been speaking to the entire group, his eyes remained focused on Freesia. For any progress she'd thought she'd made with the nod he'd singled her out again.

"That means you, jarhead," Freesia heard Colin say bluntly. Looking up he could see him wearing a face very similar to Wavy's, but instead of glaring down at her he was glaring down at the woman next to him. "I know how you like to run your mouth."

With a frown, Mary locked her gaze with Freesia. After a second or two of staring, the Federation woman rolled her eyes. Freesia gave a knowing nod. It was at least nice to know she wasn't going to be the only one given a hard time. "Alright," she said sending another nod in Wavy's direction. "Nobody but us. So we're doing it?"

"Yes," the man answered. "We're doing it."

Freesia could barely hide the smile that was beginning to spread across her face. "Good," she said. It was a bit of an anticlimactic answer for all her ranting earlier in the meeting, but it would do. "So what's the plan?"

Wavy glanced over towards the Gallian at the door. "We're going to blow our way out," Rick said.

Cocking her head, Freesia raised an eyebrow. "You mean like… with explosives."

"Yeah."

"You're serious?"

The man nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh." It wasn't exactly what she was expecting, and she didn't see how it was going to work, but at least it was something. "OK then."


	5. Piggy

**Piggy**

Her muscles were burning again, but that didn't matter. For at least the next five minutes she didn't want to draw any more attention to herself than necessary. Holding her shovel in both hands, she drove it into the pile of gravel in front of her and began to lift. The pile was a lot smaller than it had been earlier in the day, but the proof of work didn't make her feel much better. In fact, it was just depressing. "So let me get this straight," a male voice said next to her. "Prostitution is legal in Gallia, but you can get jail time for passing around a joint?"

"No," Freesia said after she'd finished unloading her current shovelful. Looking towards the speaker she saw a young man with blonde hair. He was one of the two Federation men who'd wondered into their meeting weeks before. It had taken her a little while to get the two twins straight, but after a while she learned that Nathan had a small mole on the left side of his face near where his jaw met his neck. There was no mole on the man in front of her. She was talking to Michael. "It's not technically legal, there's just no real punishment for it. I mean, they'll take you down to the station and everything, but you just get a quick slap on the wrist and a 'Don't let us catch you doing this again.' Then you're free to go."

"Alright," Mike said as he began lifting another shovelful of gravel, "but what if they do catch you doing it again? What if it's your second offense? Or third, even."

"That's the beauty of it," she replied letting her shovel slack for a moment. The winter air was frigid, and the sun was already beginning to set, but with all the work she was doing Freesia couldn't help but feel a bit warm. She didn't want to look like she was taking a break, but breaking her back over the pile in front of her wouldn't do her any good either. Glancing up she watched the sun slowly drift towards the edge of the horizon. The whistle calling them in would be blown any time now, and it was their last day working on the road. "They don't keep a record for it. I knew this guy, right? He was taken in for picking up prostitutes at least twice a month. Knew every officer by name. They'd take him in, chat for a bit, and send him home. Hell, they even let him finish before they dragged him away."

"You're kidding."

Freesia was glad that their rotation would be over soon. Manual labor had its benefits, but it was tiring as Hell. She at least had something to keep her occupied over the week, but after the first three days had passed it either became mind numbing or physically painful, if not both. Small conversations here and there could help pass the time, but it didn't completely fill a person's need for variety or rest. "Honest to God," Freesia said lifting her shovel again. "You want to know the real kicker though? Guess what he did for a living."

Stopping for a moment himself, Mike ran his arm across his forehead. It was cold, but everyone was sweating. There were no showers on the road, and by the time a week's shift was up nobody wanted to be any closer to anybody else than absolutely necessary. It was manageable until the prisoners had to pack up into the transport trucks to be taken back to the prison camp. If the tight spaces weren't enough to deal with, twenty sweaty and dirty bodies pushed Freesia's tolerance of the situation over the edge. She might have even taken another week's worth of work over the ride back. Probably not. "Don't tell me he was a cop."

Freesia shook her head. "Close, but no. City councilman."

With a long groan Mike let the blade of his shovel dig into the ground and rested his arm on the handle. "Should have known," he chuckled to himself. "Always the fuckin' politicians."

"No, don't pin him down just because of that." The twins were nice enough guys, and Freesia didn't mind her conversations with them, but she'd much rather have been talking to Fina. She was with Wavy for the moment though, and neither of them were in sight. They weren't supposed to be near each other until they were back in the prison camp anyway – it was Fina's turn to mule as well. Every trip out to the road three members of the group took a rotation smuggling a little bit of the blasting powder back to the prison camp. This week the three women were up for transporting the goods. They were chosen for the task a fair bit more often than the men were. With a mostly male guard staff and a need to find creative places to smuggle the explosives through the checkpoints, the three women had become a valuable asset to the escape effort. It certainly wasn't a picnic, but it was also a fair bit more comfortable for them to run the goods through than it was for the men. There were only a few days out of every month that the women were disqualified from mule-ing, and this wasn't one of those days. The opportunity was unfortunately too good to pass up. "Yeah, it was a bit ironic," she continued, "but he was actually a stand up guy, you know? He supported us every time we came into his district for a show, kept the place safe and clean, and he actually cared about the people living there. So he picked up a hooker every now and then. That's his business, and as long as he's still doing his job what's the big deal?"

"That he's working for the city and breaking the law. I could see an affair, but punishment or no, you still said prostitution was illegal."

Freesia shrugged. Over towards her right she could see the transport trucks pull into the loading zone. The half-tracks blocking the way were already in place, and the soldiers guarding the checkpoint were waiting for the prisoners to move through. "Fair, I guess," she conceded. "Still, nobody really cared. I mean, he kept the job, right?"

Mike ignored her question. Instead, he smiled mischievously and looked at the woman in front of him. "Did you ever do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know."

Sighing, Freesia lifted another load of gravel with her shovel. "You mean sell myself?"

"Well…" He started a bit timidly, but after a moment of searching for words he settled on something simple. "Yeah."

Freesia almost laughed at how simply he'd put it. Fortunately for him, she wasn't easy to offend, especially when discussing the matter at hand. It hadn't really mattered. She had nothing to hide. "No," she said evenly. "I had a skill, I didn't have to. I danced, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," he said quietly. "Sorry."

"Nah, don't sweat it."

With a heavy grating sound a third shovel slid its way into the pile. Looking up Freesia could see that they'd been joined by the only Darcsen in the camp other than Wavy – Isaac. He was alright. At least he wasn't as uptight as Wavy. "What kind of dance was that exactly?" he asked.

Isaac didn't particularly seem to care about high culture as much as Wavy did, but after a week of heavy work any conversation that could get someone's mind off of the labor in front of them was a conversation worth having. She was grateful for it. "Nothing special," Freesia said. Having talked to the man for the past few weeks she already knew more about him than she really cared to know. The man worked in a bank. Had a wife and three kids. There wasn't anything particularly interesting about him other than the fact that he was Darcsen. Wavy really liked him, but that went without saying. "A little bit of jazz, a bit of tap. Some ballet. Mostly solo stuff."

Isaac's voice droned as if he'd rather be sleeping. Freesia got the feeling that if they hadn't been stuck there he wouldn't have been asking. "Were you any good?"

It was difficult to objectively decide whether or not she'd actually been any good. She could have tried to compare herself to the other dancers she'd traveled with, but even then she'd have to have been looking at her own routines with rose colored glasses. Even if she could look at the dance itself there would have been no way she could have separated the movements from the person making them, and if that person had been a bitch she'd probably have told the two gentlemen she was working with that she'd been the better performer, regardless of whether it was true or not. In the end, Freesia decided to use the only objective benchmark she could think of. "Well," she said with a shrug, "I didn't have to sell myself, so I guess I was good enough."

"Good enough is good enough to keep you off the streets, I guess," Isaac replied.

"Yeah," Freesia said dropping her last load. The Imperials at the checkpoint were checking their weapons. It was odd that now that was actually a good sign. "I would have starved before resorting to prostitution anyway. That's tough work. You can't be picky. I had a friend who did it for a while, and she's got all sorts of horror stories about men who looked like dogs or were near seventy years old or hadn't bathed in–"

Freesia was interrupted by the sound of the whistle that signaled the end of their work shift. That was it – another week of hard labor in an endless series of working weeks done. She watched as the other prisoners on the unfinished road cheered and slapped each other on the back in congratulations. It wasn't much, but any reason to celebrate was jumped on. They didn't have much else. As happy as the other workers were, though, Freesia wasn't relieved. She still had two struggles ahead of her – the checkpoint and the ride home. Even if she made it through the checkpoint without hassle – which she already knew she wouldn't – she still had a long ride in a dark, dirty, and smelly transport truck ahead of her. She was fairly certain her stomach wouldn't be making the ride this time. Sighing, she hoisted her shovel onto her shoulder and began to walk towards the loading station. "You have everything you need?" Isaac's voice called from behind her.

Everything? No. Not everything. A hot shower and her own bed would have been nice, along with all the freedoms and rights that came along with it. She knew those weren't included in the question though. Home wasn't important now. The only thing that mattered was the goods. They would buy everything else. Maybe not soon, but eventually. With a little bit of patience and a lot of time, she'd have her shower and bed. Oddly enough, the only way to get the shower and the bed was to forget about them for the time being. Focusing on the freedom she didn't have would only kill her spirits. Some people could manage like that. Fina and Wavy seemed to get on just fine focusing on what they were working for. She made sure that she excused herself every time they began talking about what they were going to be getting back to. It made them happy, but she found it easier to just forget about it all for a while. The discussions themselves didn't matter. She could talk all day about her old dancing troupe or the legality of prostitution in Gallia. It was at least something to talk about. Freesia couldn't talk about going back to those though. Her dance troupe was in the past, and until she stepped foot back in Gallian soil it would stay there. The only thing she saw in her future was a small bag of blasting powder, a truck ride followed by a night on a stiff mattress, and maybe a cold shower in the morning. As long as she didn't picture what she could be having instead she could stomach it all. It wasn't ideal, but at least she was still alive.

"I've got everything," she said without stopping to wait for the man. Once they'd figured out how to smuggle the contraband her job as a mule turned out to be pretty simple up until the time came to load onto the trucks. The first step was to get the waterproof bags that the powder would actually be transported in. Those were easy to find – there were hundreds of them in the work station back at the prison camp. Packing Imperial rations had its perks. Getting the explosive powder itself wasn't Freesia's problem. Warren had been a demolitions expert in the Royal Guard, so he took care of that. What little blasting resources the Imps had at the construction site were heavily guarded and came in block charges, but somehow by the end of the week the Gallian would make sure a bag full of explosive powder made it into her hands. She didn't know what kind of explosive she was carrying, but she also didn't care. It blew stuff up, and that's all she needed to know to sleep at night. Actually smuggling the powder was the only really uncomfortable part of the process, but even then all that came down to was crawling under a blanket at night and storing the bag with as much of the explosive material inside as she could physically stand to carry. After that it was just a matter of making it through the checkpoint. That never went as well as planned.

As the three prisoners approached the loading station Freesia could see Fina and Mary already pulled aside and forced against one of the half-tracks. With a heavy sigh she rolled her eyes and began to move through the checkpoint. For the first few times she'd been chosen to mule Freesia had tried to keep a low profile. It hadn't mattered – she'd been pulled out and searched every time. Without fail the mules were pulled aside. Before she'd moved even halfway through the line she felt a heavy hand fall on her shoulder. She didn't need to look back to know it wasn't one of the other prisoners clapping her on the back in congratulations for another week down. "Excuse me, ma'am," a gruff voice said, "I'm going to ask you to come with me."

Looking back Freesia could see the man pulling her aside. She was lucky this time – he was one of the cute ones. Stepping out of the way of the incoming prisoners, she let her two companions move along towards the trucks. They didn't acknowledge her as she was pulled aside, and she didn't give them any signs or goodbyes. The two of them were just numbers to her while they were moving through guard stations. As they made it over to the half-track Freesia could tell that Fina and Mary were doing their best not to look at her. Both of them had their eyes glued to the metal siding of the vehicle in front of them. "Alright," the cute Imperial said when they'd reached the lineup, "you know the drill."

Smiling, Freesia found her spot next to Fina. The blonde didn't look, but she was smiling slightly herself. She smiled a lot when she was nervous. "I don't think I'm familiar with that one," Freesia said, "but I do know the flamenco if you're comfortable with that."

All three of the guards watching the women at the half-track laughed. They were probably just as sore about being stationed out on that road as the prisoners were about having to work it. It was a good sign that they were laughing as well. A little humor went a long way when dealing with the guards. "Just the drill, if that's alright," the man escorting her said with a chuckle.

With a wink Freesia turned to face the metal siding of the vehicle and placed her hands on the armor plating. It was a pain having to be searched like this, but other than the inconvenience of the situation no real dangers or problems had arisen from the process in the past. The guards at the station did their jobs well, but all they were authorized to give was a quick pat down. They could search as long as they wanted, but York knew that as long as the three women kept their cool the Imperials wouldn't have reason enough to send them to the aid station for a more thorough search. As long as the guards kept their hands where the trio could see them they were safe. So far that hadn't been a problem. "You know," the man working his hands up and down Fina's leg said with a surprisingly cheery voice, "I know the flamenco myself."

Laughing, the man patting Freesia down moved his hand up the inside of her thigh to where her leg met her crotch. If circumstances had been different it might have been a very good feeling. The fact that he was laughing put her at ease. He wouldn't be focusing completely on his job. "Bullshit you know the flamenco," he said.

"No," the other guard insisted. "I really do." The hands had moved off of Freesia's legs and up to her waist. Looking over she could see that the guard searching Mary was even further ahead in the process, and the one with Fina was working his way off of her legs as well. It looked like they were home free. "You were even there when I learned."

"When was this?"

Watching Fina's guard, Freesia could see him move his hands from off of her legs and up to her waist. As long as they didn't go anywhere they weren't supposed to they'd made it through. "During our first tour. Remember when we took Trnava and all those locals threw that party? One of them was teaching soldiers how to dance."

Pausing his hands on Freesia's hips the cute guard stopped his search. "You mean that brunette with the big chest?" she heard him ask flatly.

"Yeah," the other man said excitedly. "That was her. She was teaching us how to dance the flamenco."

With a heavy sigh, the guard's hands began moving again. They worked their way up Freesia's flank before running themselves back down again. "That was the salsa you dumb fuck."

"Is there a difference?"

Freesia was laughing as her guard finished his search and took his hands off of her. Only part of it was from relief. "Yeah," she said as she let her own hands fall from off of the armor plating of the half-track. "There's a pretty big difference."

Within moments the guard was laughing himself. He was only half heartedly concentrating on his search. It didn't seem he cared as much about finding contraband as he did socializing. "Well, then I can do the salsa, if you're interested."

"Sounds like a date," Freesia said in a low voice, "but you're going to have to teach me. I don't know that one."

Letting Fina go, the guard puffed himself up and thrust his chest out lightly. Freesia had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing – in his excitement the man had completely forgotten to pat down Fina's arms. "It's a deal. Next time you're on rotation I'll sneak you off and–"

Fina's guard stopped talking the moment somebody cleared his voice behind them. Slowly turning, his shoulders slumped the moment he saw that three other guards had joined them. One of them was an Imperial NCO. "I take it you've searched these three thoroughly?" he asked, ignoring what he'd heard from his companion just moments before.

"Yes, sir," the cute guard said. "They're all checked out."

The three new guards walked forward and stepped next to the three that had patted the women down. Something wasn't right about them, and Freesia could tell she wasn't the only one who suddenly felt uncomfortable. Even the three guards who'd been with them previously seemed on edge at their arrival. "And what did you find?"

The third man from the original group answered. Having been searching Mary at the far end of the group, Freesia hadn't gotten a good look at him before the new group of guards had arrived. He was by far the youngest of the group, and he couldn't have been much older than she was if he wasn't younger. He also seemed the most nervous. "Nothing, sir," he said. "They all checked out. I don't know who told you they were trying to–"

"Check them again," the leader of the second group said, cutting the young guard off. "And keep checking them until you find something."

"But sir, we–"

"I gave an order. Carry it out."

The original three shared a worried look before turning back towards the prisoners and beginning their search for a second time. There wasn't any talk this time. Freesia could tell that the cute guard's hand was shaking as it moved across her body. When it reached the inside of her upper thigh it wasn't nearly as exciting as it had been the first time. After what seemed like a very long time he finally moved past her legs and onto her upper body. Under the scrutinizing glare of his superior he didn't take as much care about attempting to preserve her decency. Somehow he seemed just as uncomfortable about the situation as she did. "They don't have anything," he said when he'd finally finished. His voice was just as shaky as his hands.

Freesia wouldn't let herself sigh in relief. She wouldn't let herself do anything that wasn't staring into the vehicle in front of her. Although she didn't look, she had a feeling the other two women were just as motionless as she was. If they cooperated and didn't move everything would be alright. The next words she heard made her jump. "I guess we'll have to search a little more thoroughly then."

"Sir?"

"Take them into the guard tent," the NCO said. "I'm clearing an invasive search."

That was it. If they made it into that tent the jig was up. They could hide the explosives from a pat down, but a full cavity search was something completely different. There was no way to hide the contraband from that. Freesia had to double check to make sure she wasn't already on one of the transport vehicles – her stomach had already started rolling over.

"You're not authorized to clear that," the cute one said. Freesia had never seen a more gorgeous man in her life.

Risking a look back, she turned her head until all six guards came into view. The three new ones had a different air about them than the three who had originally been searching them. They held themselves higher, as if they felt they were more important than the other soldiers. By the way the other Alliance troops reacted to them there may have been some truth behind their arrogance. Other than the NCO, though, all of the rank insignias were the same. "These women are carrying contraband," the man said, "and we're going to find it. I'll have Renee and Carmen conduct the search. We'll take them from here."

Although the order had been given nobody moved. When the NCO tried to step forward and grab Fina by the shoulder the salsa guard didn't step out of the way. "You don't have the authority to clear that kind of a search," he said. "If you want an invasive search then fine, but get it cleared through the CO first."

Without speaking the leader pushed the dancing guard aside and reached out to pull Fina with him. If the guard staff had been serious about searching them down it wouldn't have been a problem for the man to clear such a search through the normal procedures. That told Freesia he probably didn't think the proposal would pass if he tried to have it done through the legal means. If he managed to pull Fina off with him, though, she was sure he'd be able to muscle his way into making the female guards at the station go along with whatever he had in mind. Immediately she knew she had only one option, and it wasn't going to be fun. Jerking her body, she stepped out and towards the Imperial NCO. "Hey, listen buddy. You–"

She didn't remember lying down, but all of a sudden Freesia was on her back looking up at the sky. With the sun setting the clouds reflected a beautiful reddish glow, and while it was far too cold she was sure she could see a wedge of swans soaring through the air. Whether they were actually there or not they were absolutely beautiful. She'd only ever actually seen the creatures once, and they'd been pinioned. They'd still been the most wonderful and graceful animals she'd ever seen, but even up close they couldn't compare to the swans flying through the sky above her. As the birds slowly started to fade out and the heavy, dull pain she felt across her left cheek faded in, Freesia regained enough sense to look around.

Five of the six guards had their weapons aimed at the three women. Two each covered herself and Mary on the ground. The Federation woman was doubled over clutching her stomach, and it seemed like she was having trouble breathing. Fina hadn't moved, and still held her feet spread apart and hands planted flat on the half-track. Her eyes were closed tight, and she looked absolutely terrified. Freesia didn't blame her – the Imperial NCO had his handgun pressed against the back of her head. The only guard who didn't have his weapon drawn was the one closest. He was holding his hand and seemed to be in a lot of pain. Freesia hoped he'd broken it when he'd dropped her. It certainly felt like he could have.

Although she probably wouldn't like the look of the new black eye she was nearly certain she'd be sporting, and Mary would probably have a few choice four and five letter words for her when she recovered enough to be able to talk, Freesia's plan had gone off without a hitch. She wasn't yet sure if that was a good thing or a very, very bad one. Praying for the former, she decided that the best course of action would be to lay still and not give the men an excuse to paint the side of the half-track with Fina's brain matter. Although every man but the one the one who'd slugged her had his weapon drawn, it was pretty clear that the original three who'd pulled the trio aside weren't much of a threat. While the NCO and his companion were as cold as ever, the three nice guards looked incredibly shaken. Then again, jumpy men and guns were never a good combination. Thankfully, all five of them still had their fingers outside of their trigger guards. At least they'd been trained well.

"Alright," the NCO said without lowering his weapon. "Richthofen, secure the blonde. Once she's cuffed move on to the brunette. The jumpy bitch goes last. If any of them move, kill them. Once they're all restrained we'll take them back up to the guard post and conduct the search. "

"Sir," the cute one said, "you still haven't cleared that with the CO." He still had his rifle aimed at Freesia, but it didn't seem to her like he wanted its barrel pointed at her any more than she did. For the first time she realized that if he pulled the trigger it would fuck him up just as much as it did her. It was probably a lot different shooting someone when they didn't have a weapon with which to shoot back.

The other guard didn't seem to have the same problem. "We've got probable cause."

"Yeah, because you were trying to conduct an illegal search."

Fina's head moved as the Imperial pushed his handgun forward. His finger still hadn't found its way to the weapon's trigger, but its business end was in a dangerous place, and he certainly didn't seem shy about reminding them that if he wanted the women dead there wouldn't be anything they could do about it. Slowly turning his head, the NCO looked the cute one over. "Do you actually give a damn or are you just thinking with the wrong head?"

The original guard looked angry, but he didn't try to stop the one who hadn't drawn a weapon when he stepped up behind Fina and began to put the handcuffs on her. "I'm going to report you to the CO when this is done," he said.

There was a metallic click as the cuff locked around Fina's wrist. When it was followed by a second sound, the NCO holstered his gun and watched as his friend pushed Fina flat against the vehicle. "Fine. I'll get a slap on the wrist to go along with the commendation they'll give me for pulling out a load of explosives. I guarantee they won't care any more than I do – or at least nobody who matters will."

Having taken care of Fina, the guard securing the prisoners moved on to the next woman. Still doubled over, Mary struggled to draw in any air her lungs were willing to take. It didn't seem like they were willing to take much. Whoever had taken her down had done a number on her. Even Federation Marines had their limits. Unceremoniously, the guard grabbed her by the back of her collar and dragged her over onto her stomach. With one knee placed on her back, he grabbed her by the hand and cuffed the first of her wrists. The click was devastating. Thankfully, before he could secure the second Freesia's gamble paid off. "Are these prisoners giving you trouble?" a new voice asked from beyond her view.

She couldn't see who was speaking, but it must have been someone of some importance. For the briefest of moments the NCO displayed the first sign of doubt he'd shown since coming upon the group. "No, sir," he said as soon as he'd regained control of himself. The involuntary doubt that had crept through had been brief, but Freesia had caught it. It made the sting that racked her face feel that much sweeter. "We've got them under control, sir. They were just–"

"Sir," the youngest of the three original guards interrupted, "the Sergeant was attempting to order an invasive search."

There was a long silence, but Freesia noted that the guards who had their guns drawn had slacked their weapons slightly. Feeling a bit safer, she lifted her head high enough to catch a glimpse at the new arrival. It turned out to be three newcomers, and she sighed in relief when her eyes fell on the one standing in the center. Holding a clipboard in his left hand, he was wearing an officer's insignia on his uniform – a Second Lieutenant. "He's not authorized to clear that," he said. "Are you Sergeant?"

"No," the man admitted carefully.

Grunting, the officer lifted his clipboard and flipped the papers until he'd found the one he'd been searching for near the end of the stack. "You're relieved of your duties here," he said as he made a number of marks with his pencil. "I'm putting all six of you on latrine duty for the next two weeks."

That didn't sound fair. Only the second trio of guards had tried to exceed their authority, and the first trio had even tried to stop them. In fact, if it hadn't been for their stalling Freesia would probably have been pulled into the guard post for an examination she really didn't want to take part in. She'd have to do something about that. "Sir," she said to the officer from on her back, "not all of them—"

"I didn't give you permission to speak," he said.

Oh well. Not wanting to risk any more complications Freesia decided to keep her mouth shut. It was a shame, but it was looking like the three nice guards were going to have to take the fall along with the three pricks. It seemed no good deed was going to go unpunished. If it got them through the checkpoint though, she was willing to let them take an undeserved beating for her. A few heated words and threats later and the six guards who'd previously been watching over the trio had departed. Whether out of habit or fear – and likely pain, in at least one case – the three women didn't move from the positions they'd been left in. It wasn't until Clipboard's two companions began removing the handcuffs that had been put on Freesia's two friends that they finally began to relax. Clipboard asked a few questions about why they'd been stopped, and he seemed to be happy with the pat down they'd been given already. For at least today it didn't seem like they'd have to worry about any further searches. After pulling Freesia off of the ground, however, he stopped speaking and looked her over. "Hey Voss," he said with a curious look. "Does she look familiar to you?"

One of the other guards stepped forward and took a moment to look Freesia over. After a moment he smiled. "Yeah, I wouldn't forget a face like that. We stopped her a while back. Didn't find anything on her then either. Looks like she's got a knack for getting herself into trouble though."

"Hm." Clipboard started to turn away, but something about her seemed to keep him in place. She couldn't tell what it was, but Freesia wasn't sure it was a bad thing. "What's your identification number?"

"780."

With a concerned look, Clipboard flipped through his stack of papers again. After a short while of searching he'd found the list he'd been looking for. Freesia watched as he cocked his head. Something about her had grabbed his attention. "Nah, must have been a mistake," he said a few moments later. Dropping the clipboard back down to his waist, he pointed towards the loading station with his free hand. "I'm sorry about the holdup. You're all free to go."

The women were on their way as soon as the permission was given. Without looking back, they marched their way towards the transport vehicles. Another rotation down. This one hadn't gone as smoothly as the previous trips though. Somehow the guards were catching on to what they were up to. They'd have to discuss that later. For now, it was enough to have made it through in one piece. Freesia was alright, but her friends looked a bit shaken. She was pretty sure she didn't look so hot herself, what with the bruise that now likely covered the side of her face, but at least she was somewhat in control of herself. It was strange – she was usually the first to crumble under pressure. Then again, she hadn't taken a shot to the gut or had a handgun pushed into the back of her head. For the one who'd instigated the struggle she'd probably gotten off the easiest. "You alright, Blondie?" she asked.

Fina was still shaking, but she was composed enough to nod. "I'm good," she said through a dry throat. It wasn't completely convincing, but the fact that she was able to answer at all told Freesia that she was at least good enough.

"Mary?"

The Federation woman was walking, but she still had both of her arms pressed against her stomach. Hunched over slightly, she kept moving forward, seemingly putting a whole lot of concentration into just putting one foot in front of the other. "Don't talk to me right now," she growled.

Trying to keep herself from laughing, Freesia shook her head. They were all going to be just fine – for the moment. It wasn't until she looked back at the woman clutching her stomach that she realized her own struggle wasn't over yet. The trucks. Groaning, she brought her own hands to her gut as the realization washed over her. At least she hadn't swallowed the powder.


	6. Turning Japanese

With a heavy sigh, Freesia dropped the pair of binoculars from her eyes and let them fall into her lap. They weren't helping as much as she hoped they would have. Although the enemy camp off in the distance was well lit, it was the areas around the outskirts of the station that she was worried about. Anything that was within the camp could be spotted with her bare eyes. Distinguishing details in the dark was her specialty, but even she was having trouble spotting movement that night. As soon as the Squad had begun their advance on Fouzen the sky decided he wanted to take some time off and left a heavy layer of clouds to cover for his absence. It wasn't too bad during the day, but the nights were about as pitch black as Freesia could ever remember them, and when she needed to locate potential threats the clouds seemed to be doing everything in their power to stop her. After straining her eyes through the binoculars for as long as she could stand it, she'd only found one group of Imps outside of the camp. Thumbing the frame of the object that now sat useless in her lap, she sighed again before leaning forward and resting her elbows on the log that served as the fortification for the small outpost she was manning. "I just see one patrol," she said as she ran a gloved finger from one end of the fallen tree to the other. "About one-hundred meters west of the camp."

There was a shuffling next to her as the boy raised his rifle. Looking over she could see that Emile was peering through the weapon's scope. Freesia smiled slightly as his face contorted while he tried to see through the lens. If she could barely catch sight of the group there was no way Emile was going to. They'd been posted on night watch together dozens of times before, and while Emile was by her judgment the best shot in the entire battalion, his night vision left her a bit wanting. It was alright – they made a good team. If he could have seen in the dark like she could she'd have been useless. "Are you sure?" the boy asked with the rifle still shouldered. The barrel swiveled left and right a degree at a time, but Freesia was pretty sure it wouldn't make a difference how quickly he moved his aim around. Black was black no matter what direction someone looked. "I can't see anything out there."

"And that's why you've got me." Wrapping her arm around the boy's shoulders, she let her own rifle slack against the outpost's siding and lazily peered out into the distance. From their elevated position the two Militiamen could see the better part of the three mile stretch that lay ahead of them – or at least they could have during the day. Now all they saw was the lights of the enemy camp closest to them. "I'd say they're sure to have another bunch of patrols out there, but it doesn't seem like they're looking to prod us tonight. We'll keep an eye out, but I wouldn't worry. Besides, if a group does stop by to say hello, we'll just say hello back." With a thud, Freesia dropped her free hand on the .30 caliber machinegun that rested next to her. It was Wendy's weapon, but the woman didn't mind loaning her baby out to one of the outposts every night, so long as it was returned to her in proper working order. Nobody had wanted to test how the woman would take it if it wasn't, and as much as Freesia found it a bit disturbing that the woman had become so attached to a hunk of metal, she didn't want to be the first to find out.

"Well, yeah, I figured that much," Emile said, seemingly unfazed by the woman's antics. When they'd first met the boy couldn't take much more than a brush against her arm without turning redder than a tomato, and for a few weeks she thought he'd grown the biggest crush on her she'd ever seen. It was really cute – cute enough that she was actually disappointed when she realized the boy was just shy. He didn't seem to have a whole lot of experience in dealing with women. The boy had grown out of it with her, and now even wrapping her arm around the kid didn't send the blood rushing to his face. That was nice. He made a decent pillow, and as comfortable as she was resting on him she didn't want to take any comfort away from him. She did know that there was still one girl in the unit who would turn the boy scarlet if she used him like that though, and she smiled at the thought that as red as he would have turned it wouldn't have been out of discomfort. "I meant that more along the lines of how did you see them?" Emile continued. "I can barely see my hand in front of my face."

"A lady of the night has to be able to see in the dark," Freesia said with a chuckle. "Who knows what's prowling out there?"

"Imperials." Sniffling a little, Emile tried to catch another glimpse of whatever could have been waiting for them out in the distance. Failing, he gave as much of a shrug as Freesia allowed him and rested back. "A bunch of Imperials, and probably a couple of…" The boy stopped mid sentence. With a quick jerk he turned towards the woman next to him. "Hey, wait a second," he said cocking his head. "Isn't 'lady of the night' another way of saying–"

"Has anybody ever told you that you make a really comfy pillow?" Freesia interrupted.

Emile was left stunned for a moment, but he didn't turn red. Instead, he merely rolled his eyes and smiled. It was progress. The kid had a wonderful smile, and it was good that he was warming it up before he really needed it. A quick glance at her watch had told Freesia that, while he himself didn't know it, Emile had less than five minutes to get it down. Getting him ready was her job. "Yeah," he said. "You did. Last night."

"Oh, that's right." She hadn't forgotten, but having pulled part of night watch with the kid three nights in a row she needed something to keep herself going. It actually hadn't been too bad. Of all the people in her section she had the most fun with Emile. All things being equal Salinas made for a better pillow, but he didn't have the personality the younger one had. Personality went a long way on night watch. "You know," Freesia said as she glanced back down at her watch. Two minutes to go. "I'm a bit old for you, but if I were a few years younger or if you were a few older, they'd have to beat me off of you with a stick."

Feeling the boy's involuntary jerk through her arm, Freesia hid another smile. It seemed she could still get a bit of a reaction out of him after all. "What?" he said as his eyes widened.

"I didn't say that one last night?" she asked feigning a confused look.

"No," the boy said still in awe. "No, you've never said that one."

"Oh." When she gave a little hint of a giggle, some of the old color flushed back into Emile's face. That was good – he looked less pasty that way. There were very few people within the Squad who would have noticed the difference in the dark, but every little bit helped, and Freesia didn't want to take any chances. She didn't have a whole lot of time left. "Well, they would. Of course, then I'd have to fight off all the other young ladies for a piece of you. Something tells me they wouldn't let you go easily, but if it came down to it I bet I could take them in a catfight." Raising her free arm, she gave a mock flex. Through her uniform Emile wouldn't have been able to see her arm even in the daylight, but the motion was unmistakable.

Laughing nervously now, Emile ran his fingers through his hair. With the gloves on the motion just made everything a mess, and a loose clump of tree bark lodged itself in his bangs. "I don't know about that. I don't see a whole lot of them beating each other up over me. I really don't see why they would. I mean, for someone like me."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short, kiddo," Freesia said brushing his hair back down and tossing the bark aside. His hair wasn't a complete mess anymore, but it didn't look finely combed either. It was about as good as it was going to get after four days in the field. "Don't tell me you haven't seen Cherry ogling you."

"Frees, she ogles every guy in the Squad."

"She sure does," Freesia conceded, "but just about everybody else would go to jail if they hit that. You could score with her and get away scot free – and she knows it."

Emile laughed again, but the nervous edge was gone. That didn't matter either way. Both laughs were cute enough to pass. "Thanks," he said, "but no thanks."

"You don't like Cherry?"

"I like her well enough, but I'm not interested. Like that, at least."

Freesia shrugged. She'd already known Cherry wasn't the girl, and she'd been expecting his answer. "Fair enough," she said playfully, "but where I come from a man doesn't turn down a horny young blonde unless he's got someone else in mind."

"No," the boy said. "Nobody else. Just not her."

"So you do have a problem with Cherry?"

"I already said it wasn't that." Emile's voice was flustered. It hadn't been exactly what Freesia had been going for, but it would do just as well. The kid was at his best when he was caught off guard. "I just–"

"I'm going to have to cut you off there, buddy," Freesia said looking down at her watch. 0300. Time was up. "You want to talk about why you don't want your hand down that girl's pants you'll have to tell it to my replacement."

Surprised, Emile squinted at his watch. "Where are you going? Our shift doesn't end until four."

Brushing her pants off after jumping out of the small fighting hole, Freesia looked back at the boy still cramped inside. There wasn't a whole lot of room to move around in there, and she was glad for the chance to stretch her legs. "I know. I was feeling a bit under the weather tonight though, so I bargained a trade."

"How'd you manage that for three in the morning?"

Freesia laughed lightly as she turned away. In the distance she could see a faint silhouette stumbling through the dark. From the looks of things, the person wasn't going to find the position without a little help. It was nearly pitch black out, but that was no excuse for completely missing the outpost. Someone else was going to need her help getting ready as well. "Wasn't too difficult," she said. "I'll catch you later, slick."

Shouldering her rifle, Freesia watched her footing as she made her way towards the figure ahead of her. She had to travel a bit out of her way to do so, but within a minute of struggling she'd made it within earshot. Her replacement was making a lot of noise as she stumbled forward, and she hadn't seen the woman approaching. "Hey, Dufour," Freesia called out as loudly as she considered safe. Clearly startled, Nancy jumped. She'd been reaching for her rifle, but stopped when it seemed she recognized the voice. "You're headed the wrong way. Observation post is straight back from here."

"Oh, sorry," the girl said. Catching her breath, she stopped for a moment while she searched for Freesia's outline in the dark. It took her longer than expected to find it. "I'm not late, am I?"

"No." Walking up to her, Freesia pointed in the direction of the outpost. Even she couldn't actually see it anymore, but as long as Nancy walked straight she couldn't miss it. Nancy being Nancy though, Freesia figured that Emile would catch on when she went wide and overshot the position. "You're right on time. Emile's waiting now. He'll see you to the post once you get a bit closer. Take care of him tonight." Patting the girl on the shoulder, she gave her a quick wink before turning to walk off.

"Why, is he sick again?"

Freesia stopped in her tracks. She hadn't walked very far, and when she turned around to face the girl again they were only a few feet apart. "What?"

"You said to take care of him," Nancy explained. "Is he sick?"

"Are you serious?"

"Well, you said…"

From what Freesia could see of Nancy's face the girl was serious. She looked concerned, even. That was good, but it wasn't what Freesia wanted out of her. She'd wanted a wink back and a 'yes ma'am'. She hadn't gotten either. "Oh, Goddammit," the woman muttered as she stepped back over to the girl. From the looks of things Emile wasn't the only one who needed her help. "Alright." Reaching out, she grabbed Nancy's beret and hung it on the butt of the rifle strapped to her shoulder. "Shit-can these," she said as she pulled the ties out of the other girl's hair and tossed them aside.

"Hey, what are you–"

"You look better without em'," Freesia said brushing her hands through Nancy's hair. When everything looked straight enough to pass, she took the beret and placed it back on the girl's head. It was a nice hat, and now that her hair was down it seemed to fit better. Something else was wrong though. "These go too." Grabbing the glasses from off of Nancy's face, Freesia gave them a quick once over before placing them in her own pocket. "Lose those."

"But I can't see without those."

Looking back towards the observation post, Freesia shook her head. If she stepped a little closer she might have been able to make out the fallen log she'd been sitting behind, but as it was she couldn't see a damn thing. Judging by how far Nancy had gone off track, she couldn't either. "You can't see with them," she said patting her pocket. "Don't worry; I'll take good care of them for you."

"But–"

"And hey," Freesia said as she started walking away again. For four days in the field Nancy wasn't looking too bad with the changes she'd made. With a little bit of prep time and a little bit of help she probably could have done better, but they could save that for the next time the Squad caught some R&R. "Emile brought a really nice pillow with him. If you get tired you should take a rest."

"Where'd he get a pillow?"

"I don't know." Shrugging, Freesia looked back and gave a quick wave. "You'll have to ask him." Walking off, she waited until she'd moved a good distance before turning back around again. Nancy's silhouette was gone, and with any amount of luck she'd made it to the observation post. The two were on their own from that point on. Freesia had done everything she could to push them along, but it was out of her hands now. "Kids," she mumbled as she set off again. Neither Nancy nor Emile had any idea what they were doing when it came to laying down any sort of game. They were truly hopeless.

**Chapter 6: Turning Japanese**

The memory of just one of the many dark nights spent on the outskirts of Fouzen faded out of Freesia's mind with a thud. By the time her head had finished jerking back and her hand had made it to her left temple she still hadn't figured out what had happened. It wasn't until she saw the tiny stone roll to a stop on the floor that she realized someone had thrown it at her – and hard enough that they'd meant for her to feel it. Glancing up with the one eye she still had open, she surveyed the room. Both Wavy and Fina were there, but she already knew it hadn't been either of them. Fina didn't throw rocks at people, and while Wavy was strict, he didn't resort to corporal punishment. In fact, he looked nearly as stunned as she imagined she herself did. That left the other faces in the room, and by their expressions it was pretty clear who'd done it. "What the Hell was that for?" she said with as strong a glare as she could manage with one eye.

The culprit didn't smile or laugh. Instead, he looked downright angry. Rolling another little rock through his fingers, Rick glared back at her with both of his own eyes. Freesia doubted her one could match his two, but that didn't keep her from trying. As pissed off as she was, standing down just wasn't an option. "Are you finished daydreaming?" the man asked. "We don't have time to be dozing off."

Debating whether or not it would be worth it to pick the stone now resting at her feet up and throwing it with all of her might back at the man, Freesia rubbed her head at the impact point. Pulling her hand back, she could see it wasn't bleeding. That was at least a good thing. The rock hadn't been very big – barely more than a few pebbles, by any objective standard – but it still stung, and a large part of her didn't want to let the attack go unpunished. In the end she decided against it. She hadn't been seriously injured, and she didn't want Wavy to toss her out again. It was rare that she was allowed to sit in on an entire meeting, and she wasn't ready to get booted just yet. This time it would be better to reason with the man – if he was willing to listen, at least. Experience told her that he wasn't. "We've been through everything eight times. Nine isn't going to change anything."

"Then we'll go to ten if we have to." Having the woman's attention, Rick dropped the stone he'd been rolling around and folded his hands. Glad to see it gone, Freesia raised her head again and opened her eye. As she'd predicted it had turned more than a few shades of black and blue, and she had a good idea that Rick had been aiming for the black eye when he'd thrown the other rock at her. Thankfully he'd missed, but not by a wide margin. He'd been close enough that she didn't want to give him reason to take a second shot. "Somehow they knew who was carrying, and even worse, what you were carrying and where you were carrying it. Somebody here has to know how."

Rolling her eyes, Freesia sat back in the chair she'd pulled up. They were in one of the male's prisoner barracks again, and they weren't supposed to be there. The jackass who'd thrown the rock had sat down in front of the door like he always did, but he had to have known that the longer they all stayed the more likely it was they were going to be caught. She certainly didn't want that. Still, as long as Rick was pushing her she was going to push back. "So what, you think I told them?" she asked. "Like I just walked up to the guys and said, 'Hey, hope you don't mind that I'm carrying a load of explosives down my pants. And by the way, while you're at it, how about you feel me up and jack me in the face?' That sounds exactly like how I want to end my workweek."

"Well," the man said suddenly grinning. "We all know how big your mouth is."

The rock on the floor was suddenly the only thing in the world Freesia wanted in her hands, and she only wanted it long enough to lodge it deep within the other man's head. She stopped when she realized Wavy was still watching. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm saying you're a–"

"Settle down, you two," Wavy's voice finally cut in. It had taken him long enough to jump in, but Freesia was just glad for the help. She had a pretty good idea what the next word out of Rick's mouth was going to be, and she didn't want to have to explain to the guard staff why they had to bury a prisoner. "You're not taking this anywhere. Besides, we don't know how they caught on. We use the women nearly every run. They could have just figured it out because we don't switch mules often enough."

"Or somebody could have told them."

Wavy shrugged. "Yeah," he said. "They could have." He cleared his throat a few times before continuing on. "That doesn't mean they did. We don't have enough to go on yet."

"So we're just going to let it slide?"

"For now," Wavy said reluctantly. "I don't think there's a whole lot else we can do for the moment."

"Hang on one second," Freesia said raising her arms. Leaning forward, she sent her old Squad mate a desperate look. Wavy looked incredibly calm despite the circumstances, and she was grateful for his level headedness, but something he'd said hadn't clicked. He wasn't the one in risk of being poked and prodded. "I really don't want to have to agree with that asshole by the door, but I want you to know that if any one of those guards gets their fingers in a place that I don't want them, I will kill somebody."

"Yeah," Fina said, "and it's probably not going to be one of the guards."

A nod from the Federation woman sitting next to her told Freesia that all three of the women were in agreement. Though they only constituted one third of the people in the room, she knew that if the three of them banded together there wasn't a thing in the world the men could do to stop them. They'd learned early on that all they needed for a majority vote was three.

"Alright," Wavy said with a defeated sigh. "I understand your concerns, and I'll think about what to do from here. We'll come up with something, I promise. In the meantime, you three have to promise me you won't do anything that's going to put you in that position."

"Of course," Fina said.

Without smiling, Wavy nodded. "I'm not worried about you."

That left two other women, but Freesia had a good idea that Wavy was only really worried about one of them – and it wasn't the brunette she was sitting next to. Deciding against pelting a new target with the rock that still lay at her feet, she instead crossed her arms and let out a sharp breath. "I'll be a good girl, dad."

Wavy opened his mouth as if he had something to say about the lip she'd just given him, but instead of scolding her he quickly shut it again. Predictably, he didn't say anything about being cautious to the third woman. Once again, it had just been her. The whole routine was starting to get on her nerves. "We're settled then," Wavy eventually said. Placated for the moment, he ran his fingers through his beard nodded. "You stay out of trouble, and we'll come up with–"

"Hold it." Propping the barracks door open an inch at a time, Rick made just enough of a gap to get a quick look outside. Swiveling his head around the narrow crack, he stopped when Freesia imagined he was looking nearly straight out from the building's entrance. The door was shut again before she realized he'd stopped looking. "Shit," he said when he'd turned back around. Freesia's stomach tightened when he raised his hand and pointed to herself and the two other women with her. "Hide."

Staring blankly at the man, it took her longer than it should have to realize that he'd meant what he'd said. She'd known they'd stayed too long. Everyone else should have as well. Looking around the room, she tried to pick out something that could keep her hidden. There wasn't much – at least nothing that would stand up to even a half-assed search. "Where?"

Rick looked left and right before settling on left. It wasn't like him to look worried, and it put Freesia on edge. In the end it was his fault that they'd been held in the meeting longer than they should have, but she'd blame him later. At that moment all she wanted was a hiding spot. There didn't seem to be many. "Get under the beds," he said.

Glancing over, Freesia could see a whole lot of space between the floors and the beds. She'd easily fit under one of them, but it wouldn't do a whole lot to keep her concealed. It might have done for a five year old in the dark. For anyone else, it wasn't too comforting. "You can't be serious."

A hand grabbed her by the arm and began pulling her towards the rows of beds lining the walls. When she looked up she saw it was Wavy. "Just get down and don't move," he said. "As long as you keep quiet you'll be fine. The guards don't really check too carefully at lights out. If anything, it's going to be the other prisoners you'll need to worry about." With a light push, he guided her head down and under one of the far beds.

As soon as his body disappeared above the bed, the door to the barracks opened. Rick and Colin had already moved themselves out of the way, and had sat down with the two twins on a set of chairs as if they'd been playing some sort of card game. That left the two Darcsens, who in turn took a seat on some of the beds on the opposite side of the room. The only people who looked out of place were the three women huddled under the beds in the back corner, and Freesia hoped nobody saw them at all. By the way the first prisoner who'd walked through the door's face lit up the moment he'd walked halfway down the aisle she was pretty sure they'd been spotted. His reaction lasted only a second though, and before anyone who wasn't looking out for it could have noticed he'd wiped it from his face and continued to his bed.

When the other prisoners filing in followed his lead, Freesia breathed a sigh of relief. At least they weren't so stupid that they were going to give them away while the guard was still in the entryway. The man who sat down on the bed she was hiding under even made sure to place his legs in front of her when he sat down. They were covering for them. That was always a nice gesture. "Hurry it up," she heard the guard say from the door. "Settle in and lights out. I'm not coming back in to tell you again."

Freesia heard one or two grunts or 'yeahs', but for the most part the men kept silent, and she didn't blame them. It was almost funny – the guard's attitude was nearly a complete reversal from the one she was used to seeing in the women's' barracks. If she ever decided to ask a guard to tuck her in she was pretty sure she could have gotten one or two of them to actually do it. From this guard's attitude though, she got the feeling that if one of the men asked the same question the guard would drop them to the floor, toss a blanket over him, and call it a 'tucking in'. It was a shame, but it was really the men's own fault for not being born pretty.

Once all of the prisoners had reached their beds, the room went silent. From her position beneath one of the far mattresses Freesia couldn't see the entryway, but she had the feeling the guard was still around. When she heard a shuffling of feet moments later she was sure of it. Thankfully, the shuffling was growing fainter, and within a few seconds the room went dark. For nearly a minute nobody moved, including the women under the beds. It was up to Wavy to signal the all clear, and as long as he wasn't moving, she figured she shouldn't either. He'd probably string her by the neck if she gave them away after promising not to get them in trouble. That was about the last thing she wanted, especially after all the shit he'd been slinging her way about being impulsive recently.

Straining her ears Freesia heard movement, but it hadn't come from Wavy's bed. It hadn't even come from his side of the room. Following the noise she tried to catch sight of who'd let slip. With the lights off the room was dark, but it wasn't so dark that it was impossible to see. It was the man lying on the bed Fina was hiding under, and his head had been dropped down over the side of the bed. "Oh my God," he said in what was clearly an announcement to the entire room. "I got a blonde."

The man's excitement answered Freesia's most pressing question. The guard was gone. However, it raised another – what exactly was it that they were going to do? Although the guard had left the building, there would almost assuredly be a few posted outside the door. Walking out just wasn't an option. There were a few windows that could be crawled out of, but they all had screens in front of them. If they broke through one of them the guards would know about it in the morning. They'd also have to make it back to their own barracks without being seen. She wasn't looking forward to that. "Alright," a familiar voice said as another pair of feet shuffled down the aisle. As the feet stepped around Fina's bed the man who'd been looking under disappeared from sight. Leaning down, Wavy replaced him as he helped Fina to her feet. "Keep quiet. They're still outside."

Not waiting for the man to come to her, Freesia slid out from under her own bed and stood. As she'd predicted, every eye in the room was on them. It wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. "What do you want us to do?" she asked. "If they're still outside it isn't like they're going to let us walk out."

"I've got room in my bed," someone said from across the room. "You're more than welcome to–"

"You can't stay here," Wavy said over him as he took a quick glance around the room. "Hopefully the guards didn't take too much care making sure everyone was accounted for in your barracks, and just in case they didn't you need to be back there in the morning when they call roll."

From the way she saw the man's eyes moving across the room, Freesia wasn't sure whether or not staying out of trouble with the guards was his sole motivating factor in getting them out of there. Nearly every face in the room was still on them. If they stuck around there were going to be more problems than just the Imperials. "Well like I was saying, going out the door's not an option. Unless you've got another way out we're kind of stuck here."

"Take the window."

The window was pretty high up on the wall, but as long as they stood on one of the beds and let Wavy hoist them up it wouldn't be difficult to crawl through. Actually getting to it wasn't the problem. The wire screening over it was. It wasn't removable, and it didn't look like there was any way to get from one side of the window to the other without breaking through it. Nothing any of the men inside the barracks did could cover that up. "They're going to notice that in the morning," Freesia said. "Something tells me they aren't going to be too happy about it either."

"We'll deal with that." Ignoring the chorus of groans that came from the assembly of prisoners around him, Wavy jumped up onto one of the beds under a window and took a quick glance outside. When he seemed satisfied, he ran his hand over the screen and slid the window open. "Once you're outside though you're on your own."

"And how exactly are we supposed to get back into our own barracks?"

Grimacing, Wavy lifted his arm and thrust it through the screen. If she hadn't known better Freesia would have thought he'd just punched every man in the room in the stomach. They certainly acted like he had. "You're on your own." Extending his arm, he helped her up onto the bed. He let her step in front of him in order to hoist her up. "Just stay out of trouble."

"Yeah," Freesia said. She knew that this time he was talking to all three of them. "We'll be alright."

Wavy merely nodded as he began to lift her through. Neither of them were happy about the situation, but it had presented itself and they were going to deal with it. That's how they'd worked in the field and that was how they were going to work in the prison camp. It wasn't exactly how she'd pictured operating, but she'd learned early on that it was best not to bitch about how crappy a situation had turned when things went downhill. Bitching got people killed. It could wait. All told, she was even somewhat glad she was the one going through the window instead of Wavy. She'd know right away if things fell apart – Wavy would have to wait until morning. "Oh man," she heard a voice she didn't recognize say as her head leveled off with the window. It was dark out, but she could see well enough to tell that the way was, at least for the moment, clear. "We are so fucked."

After flashing Wavy a quick thumbs up, Freesia planted her hands on the windowsill and hoisted her legs through. Poking her head out slightly she took a more detailed look at her surroundings. There weren't any guards, and she couldn't see any signs of movement. That was comforting. The staff conducted light patrols throughout the night, but most of the security was posted around the walls and within sight of the barracks doors. So long as they moved before a patrol swung by they'd be able to move to a safer position to figure out some sort of plan. If leaving through the men's barracks door wasn't an option, the idea of going back through their own front door was crushed as well. "No," another stranger said. Freesia didn't bother looking back, but the disappointment in the voice was unmistakable. "We're not."

The ground was farther from the base of the window than Freesia was expecting. Her landing was rough, but she managed to turn a would be fall into a half-roll that might have had her old dance troupe bent over in fits of laughter. It hadn't been nice on her shoulder, but it was better than falling flat. What hadn't been nice was the noise she'd made as she stumbled. Quickly finding her feet again, Freesia moved in a crouch towards the rear corner of the barracks. She already knew there were guards stationed near the front. The fact that they hadn't immediately rounded the corner told her that they hadn't heard her hit the ground, but if there was anybody waiting for her around the back of the building she needed to know about them before she'd even hit the ground. That already made her late.

Just as she reached the corner she heard a heavy thud behind her. It was noticeable from where she was standing, but it had also been considerably lighter than her own landing. That meant Fina. Ignoring her friend for the moment, she reached the end of the building and took a knee. Edging back slightly, she began moving her head around the corner, slowly scouting the prison grounds around the corner. The barracks had been built in rows, with one main pathway acting as an avenue to all of them. That worked in their favor. So long as they didn't step out in front of the buildings they weren't likely to run into a guard post. Patrols were a different matter, however. She didn't see any though. There were a few other buildings in the area, but otherwise the stretch was empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, Freesia had almost given herself a pat on the back when she heard the second landing behind her.

It hadn't been a 'landing' so much as a 'crash'. When she looked back, all Freesia saw was Fina rushing over to help the figure that now lay sprawled out on the ground. Apparently the Federation didn't teach their recruits how to roll. Satisfied that the corner was clear, she didn't waste any time waiting for the blonde to pick the other woman up onto her feet. If she was injured the girl wouldn't have been able to move her on her own, and if the guards had heard the sound of the impact it wouldn't have been long until they rounded the corner – certainly not long enough for Freesia's two friends to sort themselves out on their own.

Mary was clearly stunned when Freesia fell in next to her. Fina hadn't looked her over. Instead, she sent a quick glance Freesia's way before moving around to the other side of the woman on the ground and lifting her arm over her shoulder. It seemed she'd come to the same conclusion her old Squad mate had, and it turned out to be justified. As she lifted the other arm over her own body, Freesia saw the illumination from a flashlight creep its way around the front edge of the building. Whoever was holding it was still around the corner, but from the way the beam bobbed and jerked across the ground and over the barracks just next door it was clear he was headed in their direction. Injured or not, they were going to have to move the woman immediately. Assessing her injuries would have to wait. Dazed as she was she didn't seem like she was going to mind.

When they'd rounded the corner Freesia pushed Fina and the other woman ahead of her and once again took a knee at the edge of the barracks. It didn't take more than a couple of seconds for the bright glare of a flashlight to step out into the open. Whoever it was had a clear view of the entire side of the building they'd just jumped out of. Cursing silently to herself, she ran a quick check of her two companions. Fina was already beginning to run an observation of the other woman. Mary looked dazed and seemed to be, once again, struggling to catch her breath, but Freesia didn't take the time to look for actual injuries. Deciding that Fina didn't have that time either, she tapped the woman on the shoulder and pulled her away. The man holding that flashlight wasn't their friend, and when he came around that second corner they needed to be long gone. That left them with two options – either try to carry their companion to some sort of hiding spot or ditch her. She wasn't ashamed to admit to herself that for a split second she favored leaving the woman behind. Whatever happened, she just didn't want to get caught. She could have taken anything but being caught. Just the thought of an agonizingly thorough strip search before being thrown into a cold, dark isolation cell left her mouth dry and her stomach in a twist. If it meant avoiding a fate like that she'd have left her own mother. Leaving her would have cause more problems than it solved though. They might have gotten away for the night, but the guard staff would surely have had a number of questions for the prisoner they would have dragged off, and she probably wouldn't have been too happy with the two 'friends' who'd abandoned her. Payback would have been a bitch. As terrified as she was of the light bouncing around the grounds behind her, they were going to have to carry the woman.

Unfortunately, there wasn't a whole lot to go on. Running further down the row of barracks wasn't an option. With the speed they'd be going while carrying Mary the man with the flashlight would round the second corner before they'd hit the next building. Simply rounding the edge of the barracks they'd just left would leave them stranded between the guard post out front and the patrol they were trying to avoid in the first place. That left the buildings straight across from them. Freesia had no idea what they were for, and she didn't care. All they meant to her was safety, and at the end of the day that was all she really needed. That and a nice pillow.

Picking the nearest of the structures, she pointed it out and began hoisting the dazed woman over her shoulder. Even with Fina on the other side she weighed more than Freesia had been hoping for. While women in the Gallian Militia definitely built muscle and gained more weight through boot camp than any of them would ever freely admit, the average Federation troop could have given Nina a run for her money. Rosina still took the cake, but as far as Freesia was concerned having to lug the woman around was a handicap she just didn't have the time to deal with. It was a shame that time didn't give a damn. Taking a last glance over her shoulder Freesia could see the light from the flashlight once more bobbing back and forth across the grass. Each jerk meant the man holding it was one step closer to condemning her to whatever Hell they had lined up for her in the detention facility. Humiliation was likely only the first torment. She didn't look back a second time.

By the time they'd made it to the door of the building they'd been gunning for she was sure the man was just steps away from rounding the corner. Not stopping for long, she reached out and swung to door ahead of her open and immediately realized they had a new problem. The three of them weren't going to fit through the door so long as both she and Fina were flanking the woman between them. Rationally, the only decision would have been to turn themselves sideways and sidestep through the doorway. Fina seemed to have caught on to that and had already begun to shift herself so that they could all fit through. Freesia wasn't going to wait. Instead, she grabbed Mary by the waist and threw her through the doorway ahead of her. Stumbling, the woman made a few feeble attempts at what looked like steps before crashing down into a heap on the floor.

Fina froze the moment Mary was ripped from her arms. Staring at the space the woman had occupied with what looked like a mixture of shock and disgust, her mouth slowly dropped open as her gaze slowly shifted from the now empty space next to her to the body now crumpled on the floor through the doorway to the woman who'd been responsible. Freesia didn't let her get any further. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the near blinding glare of the flashlight as its wielder stepped into view. It was more of the man than she'd ever wanted to see. Grabbing the girl by the wrist, she took one step into the building before turning and pulling with every ounce of strength she could manage to muster.

Ignoring the glare Fina sent her as she shot past, Freesia spun on her heels and shut the door behind them. There was a small light in the room, but it was still dim enough that she had to wait for her eyes to adjust before she could fully make out her surroundings. When the room came into focus her heart sank again. They were in a bathroom. There wasn't a back door. Whoever had been following them had rounded the corner before she'd thrown herself inside. If he'd seen her before she'd swung the door shut there wasn't anything they were going to be able to do. If he hadn't, or if he'd only seen a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye, there was a chance they could still hide.

Looking around she could tell that it was one of the men's restrooms. She hadn't been in one before, but just one glance at the wall told her everything she needed to know. Urinals. With her glance, she noticed something else as well. The walls above and surrounding the urinals were covered in strange black marks. There didn't seem to be much order to the streaks running themselves back and forth across the room's siding, but they didn't look natural either. She didn't have time to investigate. Instead, the other structures in the room caught her eye. For once they'd been lucky. Bathroom stalls. A vast majority of the bathrooms in the prison camp were a single open room, with toilets lined up against each wall with nothing in between to separate one from the next. If someone had to use one, they had to use it with everyone in the room watching. It really wasn't a whole lot different than the bathrooms back in boot camp. Recruits hadn't earned privacy. Prisoners were deprived of it.

There were, however, a select few bathrooms in the camp that did have stalls. While the guard staff were allowed to use these bathrooms full time, prisoners had to compete for them. In the end it was bribery, but it worked. 'Good behavior' passes to the special restrooms were a hot commodity around the camp. It was amazing how far even a whiff of privacy went towards keeping people in line. Freesia had never been given one of those passes, and just the sight of a bathroom stall sent chills down her spine. It also gave her hope. The situation wasn't ideal, but hiding in a stall would at least give her a chance of staying hidden if somebody came through the door. She'd never thought of describing a bathroom stall as 'wonderful', but there had been a lot of things she'd never expected to run through her mind over the past few months. Nearly laughing, she grabbed Mary under her arms and began hoisting her off of the floor.

The woman was moaning slightly, but Freesia didn't care. Fina would deal with anything wrong when she knew they were safe. That meant getting her two friends into a stall. Motioning for Fina to come and help, she groaned as she attempted to lift the woman up onto her feet. She wasn't much larger than Freesia was, but she certainly felt like it. When Fina finally put some of her own muscle into lifting her, they began a slow stumble forward towards the stalls. Trying to match their pace to one another, they accidentally stumbled past the first to stalls before finally coming to a halt in front of the third. It took all Freesia had to keep them from crashing back down onto the floor. As exhausted as she was she didn't think she'd be able to lift Mary back up again if they fell, let alone find the strength to get back up on her own feet.

Thankfully, they didn't topple, and though her legs were burning Freesia managed to shift enough of her weight around so that she could open the stall's door and begin hobbling thorough. It only took her a glance to see that the three of them weren't going to fit together. Even if they could all crowd into the same stall, anyone who brought their head down to floor level would still see their feet. So long as Fina kept the dazed woman in line the two of them could probably hunker down together on the same toilet. Fina would at least be able to keep Mary's attention focused on keeping her feet elevated high enough to clear the bottom of the stall – while a little bit of focus had returned to her eyes, she still didn't look like she was able to accomplish that on her own. That left Freesia to find her own stall. She left the moment Mary had been set on the seat. The woman was Fina's problem now. Running out, she bolted towards the first stall in the row, flung open the door, and nearly tripped over herself running in.

The view from inside was almost foreign. She'd been in many bathroom stalls before, but somehow this one was different. It was dim inside the bathroom, and the walls of the stall cast shadows that masked most of the details from view, but it was still one of the nicest stalls she'd ever been in. While she'd never run the merits of one of the enclosures through her mind before – even after sitting in one for the first time after boot – she couldn't help but notice how safe it made her feel. Bathrooms were dangerous. People were always vulnerable when taking care of whatever business needed to be taken care of in one. She'd need both hands to count off the number of people she knew who'd been killed in action because they had or hadn't stopped to relieve themselves at the right time. The drill instructors who ran the Militia boot camp knew that, and the guards knew it as well. Both took advantage of it for different reasons, but in the end they had the same effect. The walls of the stall could protect her from anything. It was absolutely perfect – until she took a closer look at the door.

It took a moment for everything to fall into place as her eyes adjusted to the shadowed walls of her enclosure, but when they did her shoulders sagged. The door was perfect, hinges and all – except for the latch, which had been ripped off of the frame, leaving nothing but a series of holes for where the screws had been torn out. Feeling the sweat roll down the back of her neck, Freesia tried not to panic. If the man was coming in she didn't have much time, but she didn't want to be left stranded in a stall without a latch. She'd felt vulnerable for too long every time she sat down in the bathroom. Vulnerable and humiliated. Not again. Letting out a determined breath, Freesia dropped her foot to the floor and began to stand herself up. She stopped when she heard a creak come from the bathroom's front door.

She was still frozen in place when she heard it slowly swing open. It wasn't until she heard a heavy boot step into the room and saw a flash of light sweep its way across the floor nearby that she realized she needed to sit back down. When her butt found the seat it wasn't in a frantic dash or a terrified rush, but more of a defeated plop. Staring at the broken latch in dismay, she listed as the footsteps came closer. The stall had been the only thing giving her hope, and it had betrayed her. She would have cried if the realization hadn't sucked what little energy she'd had left out of her. "I'm telling you," she heard a voice say, "I saw something."

The pace of the footfalls slowed as the beam from the flashlight swept across her stall's floor. With her feet planted on the toilet seat she hugged her knees and buried her head in her thighs. They wouldn't save her, but they at least felt safe. "It was probably just a cat or something," a second man said.

For a moment the beam of the flashlight paused. The light was focused on the floor outside of her stall, casting an eerie glow across the ground in front of her. "A cat?"

"Yeah."

Along with a sigh, the light started moving again. "Are you retarded or something?"

"What's wrong with that?" the other man asked incredulously.

"There aren't any cats in camp." The footsteps were closing in. As they moved past Freesia looked up. She could see movement through the thin cracks of the bathroom stall. "Besides, it's February. You think a cat that nobody owns is going to be waltzing around the grounds in the dead of winter?"

"Maybe it's a wildcat."

"In the dead of winter?"

"Cats have to go somewhere," the man said. "I mean, it's not like they pack up and disappear for six months of the year. Unless they hibernate. Cats don't hibernate, do they?"

Watching through her crack, Freesia saw a blur of motion as the figure in front of her stall bent down to sweep the ground again. This time the flashlight moved in a slow arc across the floor, taking each section in a little at a time. When the beam had made it from one wall to the other, the man lifted himself off of the ground. As he stood his flashlight came to a rest pointing directly into the crack of Freesia's stall. Everything outside was lost around the blinding glare baring down on her. "I'm not even going to bother answering that," he said.

The light that shot through the narrow crack was too much for Freesia to handle. Squeezing her eyes shut, she once again buried her face between her thighs. As long as she couldn't see them she'd be alright. It was a thought that even Aisha wouldn't have believed, but as long as she ran it through her head she was convinced that everything would turn out just fine. The guards wouldn't be any trouble. They'd turn to leave and then she'd be home free. Until then she had nothing to do but bury her head and pray. "Well either way this place is empty. Let's just get out of here."

Another long sigh sounded off from the other side of her stall's door. "Yeah, I guess." Sparing a quick look, Freesia raised her head. If they were leaving she was safe. She wouldn't be dragged out of the stall by her neck, thrown to the floor, and cuffed. She wouldn't be sent for a search at the detention facility, and she wouldn't be locked away in an isolation cell for the next three weeks. For a brief moment relief washed over her. The feeling was cut short. "I'm dropping a load first."

As the door in front of her began to nudge open, Freesia dropped her head back between her knees. This time she knew that things weren't just going to turn out alright because she couldn't see the guard, but she hid behind her legs anyway. They were familiar. Even if they weren't safe, they at least gave her a false promise of comfort. It was something to go on. There hadn't been a whole lot of that lately, and it wasn't looking like there was going to be any of it in the immediate future. Her face pressed harder against her thigh with every creak the hinges made. When the creaking stopped, so did Freesia's breathing. The room had gone completely silent around her. With her eyes screwed shut the place might as well have been completely empty. She knew it wasn't.

It took longer than it should have for her to recognize the first sound that made its way to her ears. One after another, a series dull thuds moved from right to left in front of her. Footsteps. Working up the courage to open her eyes, she decided to take a look. It wouldn't have changed things either way. The room came back into focus slowly, each detail seemingly melting out of the shadows that surrounded her. When she could see again, the first thing she noticed was that the view in front of her was very different. The door was still there, but it was left ajar. What had once been a crack of only a few centimeters had widened into a gap nearly a foot wide. The man who'd pushed it open was nowhere in sight, but his footsteps had stopped around the left corner of the front of her stall. Just moments after opening her eyes, the familiar sound of moving hinges grated at her ears. Her own stall's door didn't move. "What," the other guard said from somewhere near the entrance of the bathroom, "that first stall not good enough for you?"

"Nope," the man with the flashlight responded. Sitting down on the other toilet, he couldn't have been much more than a meter or so away from where Freesia was hiding. The only thing separating them was the barrier of the stall wall. "Forgot that the latch is broken on that one."

"So?"

"So I'm not going to the bathroom if I can't keep the door shut. I don't want people peeking in on me while I'm taking a shit."

Freesia had lived in the desert nearly her entire life, but she couldn't remember a time when her mouth had been so dry. Even a full day's worth of dancing in the blazing heat hadn't left her as thirsty as she was at that moment. She'd have killed anyone for water. Even Fina.

"There's nobody here," the guard by the door said.

"You're here."

"And what, you really think I'm going to try to sneak a peek of you doing your business?"

The door wasn't flung wide, but it was still far more open than Freesia would have liked. A foot's gap was double what anybody would have needed to see if a stall was occupied at a quick glance. Triple even. For what seemed like a long while she debated trying to push it shut again. It only took a second's worth of thought to realize that it was a bad idea. There was still a guard outside. If he saw the door moving she was done for. The only real option she had was to sit it out.

"I saw you checking me out earlier," the man in the stall said. There was a long silence when the words had finished leaving his mouth, but after a short break in the conversation both of the men broke out into laughter. If the situation had been any different Freesia probably would have laughed as well. She didn't. Somehow she knew that if she opened her mouth the only thing that would have come out would have been a whimper. "But seriously," the man continued when their laughter had died down, "have you ever tried taking a dump in a stall without a latch? It just doesn't happen."

"Yeah," the man by the door said with a hint of laughter still in his voice. "And you called _me_ retarded." There was another series of footsteps. From the sound of things the man outside had walked towards the row of urinals lining the wall. "Hey, did you see where the marker went? I've got a tally to add."

"Oh?" Freesia heard the man with the flashlight say from the stall next to her. "Who's the lucky number this time?"

"241," the guard outside said wistfully. She recognized the tone well, but she couldn't match the man's voice to the room she'd seen when she'd walked in. It didn't seem like a place that would bring out the sentimental side in a man.

"241? That's the sixth time in the past two weeks."

"And?"

There was another sigh. This one seemed more concerned than anything else. "You've got a fuckin' problem," the man said.

His friend on the outside gave a quick laugh. Blowing off the other man's concern, he spoke with the same laid back tone he'd been using before. "I wish I had a fuckin' problem," he said. "Right now it's just a plain old regular problem."

"Well I don't want _any _problem," the one in the stall said. "You need to forget about it. You've got a job here. Don't put yourself in a position you can't get out of."

"Shit, I don't care what position it is."

He might not have cared, but Freesia did. She'd been holding her legs up on the seat with her for the past few minutes. They'd already been sore before she'd found herself on the run. Now they just felt like death. "Don't blow this off, man. I'm being serious."

"Yeah, so am I." The man's voice sounded irritated, but he didn't seem angry with the man in the stall. He didn't really seem angry at anyone in specific at all. Freesia knew the tone – frustration. "I mean, Kirtland does it all the time and nobody says a Goddamn thing. If he can, why can't I?"

"Because you're not him." Along with his voice there was a shifting sound from the stall next door. Either he was growing uncomfortable himself or he was finishing up. As much as Freesia had wanted the men out before, she almost wished he would take his time. They needed to leave sometime, but the gap in the door in front of her wasn't getting any narrower.

"So that makes it wrong? I don't see how that's got anything to do with this. If it's alright for him, it should be alright for me too."

"Yeah, well it's not." The shifting sound was much more distinct this time, and Freesia placed it immediately – toilet paper being unwound. Each time the roll twisted and bounced against its dispenser her heart jumped. "And honestly I don't want to talk about that. The guy gives me the fuckin' creeps. The less we get involved the better, as far as I'm concerned."

Hearing the man's words, she didn't blame him. Although she hadn't seen Kirtland since the day she'd learned the war had ended his impression had stuck, and she didn't have to be psychic to know that if she was caught the man would be one of the first people to speak with her at the detention facility, and that he'd be sure to offer to let her go, no questions asked – for a price. She was planning on taking the isolation cell. "Whatever," the man by the urinals said. If the situation had been different Freesia might have felt bad for him. He sounded desperate. "Look, I know you don't like this and all," he continued, "but could you at least do me a favor?"

"What is it?" The man in the stall seemed to have given up on talking sense into his friend. He hadn't given up on the toilet paper. With another series of bumps, Freesia's heart nearly gave out. She was sure it was going to explode if he kept it up much longer.

"She's got work shift on Wednesday, and–"

"No."

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" the man swore loudly. "At least hear me out." As he continued speaking Freesia could hear his feet moving again. The footfalls were constant, but they didn't seem to be coming any closer, and he didn't step out in front of her stall. If she had been forced to guess, she would have said he was pacing. "She works Wednesday, and I need you to wingman for me. While we're checking them through the work station you've got to pull her aside and act like you're going to search her or something. Be a dick about it. Just before you lay your dirty, grimy hands all over her I'll sweep in, act all official like, and save the day."

"Even this whole situation being a mistake aside, that's probably one of the stupidest things I've ever heard. Do you really expect her to fall for that?"

"No, I expect her to fall for me." The man's pacing quickened as he spoke. As it was he was keeping to his side of the bathroom, but the movement still made Freesia uncomfortable. The stall's walls were tight around her. In any other situation that would have been great. Tightness meant security. It was comforting. With the door ajar, however, the stall was only tight on three sides. The fourth was wide open, with enough open space for anybody to see inside. Once again she was vulnerable. "It's like that recruiting poster," the man continued. "The one where that soldier in the combat gear rescues the damsel in distress by slaying the dragon."

"Oh," the man in the stall groaned, "don't tell me you fell for that poster. So many fuckin' guys fell for that poster."

"The poster isn't the point, the situation is. I'll be her knight in shining armor."

Freesia had lost count of how many times the guard in the stall had pulled more toilet paper from the roll in the dispenser, but she knew it was quite a few more times than she'd ever wanted to hear, and that the rate at which he was pulling off new pieces was slowing considerably. He was nearly finished. It meant that he'd be leaving soon, but it also meant that he'd be crossing her line of sight within minutes. Probably less. The sound of the roll wasn't just making her heart pound – it was making her physically nauseous. "I think you read that poster wrong," he said as he tugged at another strip. "It wasn't about getting laid, it was about killing your enemies. She's not the damsel in distress, she's the dragon."

"Yeah," the man outside said without missing a beat, "and I really, really want to slay her." Freesia heard a long sigh. It caught her interest not because of its tone or its length, but because it was coming closer and closer. The footsteps were growing louder as well. Trying to judge his distance, she leaned towards the stall's wall. When her head was just inches away from the barrier, she nearly fainted.

The crash was louder than any gunshot she'd ever heard – or at least it felt like it was. Echoing through her head, the noise nearly sent her jumping through the roof. All of a sudden she found herself putting everything she had left in her into just staying on her seat. She nearly toppled over onto the floor when the walls shook around her. That was it. Her heart was gone. The last detail she took in before what little color she could discern in the darkness of the shadows faded away was the door of her stall. The impact had knocked it open another four inches or so. Her eyes dropped down to the boot tip that was now poking its way into the side of her enclosure before tunnel vision finally shut everything out. "Look, you're my best friend," the voice continued. She couldn't see anymore, but he was standing right next to her. "Just help me out this once."

Sandwiched between the two, Freesia was surprised she could hear anything but the sound of her own heart. After exploding it had somehow put itself back together, and began beating against her chest like a hammer. Still, she was able to listen as the man in the stall next to her let out a breath. "Are you giving me the puppy dog eyes?" he asked after a long silence.

There was another thud against the side of the stall, but this one was much lighter. It gave Freesia pause, but it didn't send her flying like the first one had. Slowly but surely, her vision began to return. "Man, if you could see my face right now your heart would fucking melt."

Freesia couldn't see his face, and she didn't need to. The tip of his boot was enough. Now that she could see again she almost wished she couldn't. Frozen in place, she couldn't make her head drop back down into the safety of her thighs. She could see them – and they looked like heaven – but she couldn't reach them. Forsaken by her own body, she sat helpless in a numb silence as she watched the world continue to spin around her. As much as she tried, she couldn't keep up with it. "Don't waste it on me," the man in the stall finally said defeated. Along with the words Freesia could hear the distinct metallic clatter of a belt buckling. Just moments later his toilet started to flush. She hadn't been afraid of the sound since before she could remember, but now it ripped through her gut as it roared. The sound of the water flowing down the drain brought her attention to her own face. In an instant she realized her own nose was running, and that a series of tears were streaking their way down her cheeks. She was amazed that she had any left in her with how thirsty she felt.

"You mean you'll do it?"

"Yeah," he said as his footsteps began sounding off. For the third time the sound of hinges turning reached Freesia's ears. This time she couldn't turn away. Freezing up in combat got people killed, and she'd always wondered how someone could work themselves up so much that they became statues. It was almost funny – she'd always been on edge before a firefight, but once the first bullet flew past she was completely relaxed. She almost looked forward to it, even. It's what she'd been trained to do, and she took pride in it. She'd grown to live for it - she was a professional. In the stall she understood. There was no training for the stall. No preparation. Nothing had been drilled into her, and she had no muscle memory to fall back on. She was alone. "I'll do it."

"I love you."

"I know," the man said as he exited his stall and stepped out into the open. His legs came into view first. He wasn't wearing the Imperial combat gear, but somehow in the dark of the bathroom he was even more intimidating than the armor clad figures she'd grown so used to shooting at. It signified that he wasn't a target. He was above a target. Freesia had shot a number of the armored men. She knew they weren't invincible. Even though the man was by all reasoning more physically vulnerable without the combat gear, her mind didn't make the connection. She'd never seen an Imp die without the heavy metal plating covering his body. The fact that he wasn't wearing it somehow made him invulnerable. As the rest of him came into view anything that had been working before gave out. Her lungs stalled, her stomach ruptured, and her guts wrapped themselves around her esophagus before turning themselves inside out. Somehow her heart didn't give. It kept its pace, ramming itself against her sternum like a battering ram – until the flashlight beam stopped on her.

It didn't fall in slow motion. As the light slipped from his hand it fell to the ground in real time. He wasn't particularly tall, either. Somehow it felt like the flashlight fell for a year. When it finally struck the ground with an ear shattering crash, everything Freesia felt suddenly disappeared. She may as well not have been there. For all she knew she wasn't. The flashlight was, though, and wherever she was the beam was gunning straight for her. It was the brightest light she'd ever seen, and she couldn't look away. It had been dropped directly in front of the gap in her stall's doorway, and sat on the floor of the bathroom pointing her out like a deer in the headlights.

She couldn't see the guard behind the blinding glare of the light, but she was certain that he could see her. All it would take him would be a quick glance. Possibly not even that. Any movement would have given her away. For once she was grateful that people could freeze. Otherwise she was sure she would have bolted. She wouldn't have made it through the stall door, but that wouldn't have mattered. Somehow it would have made sense. It would have been better than terror. Giving in, she let her mind wander. If she wasn't going to be moving, she figured she should get her mind off of what was happening in front of her. Concentrating on the light was killing her. Instead she put forward anything she thought could help; sitting on her father's shoulders; a bevy of swans on a summer day; the comforting weight of a fully loaded magazine in her hand. As the flashlight slowly lifted off of the ground and out of sight she wished she had one. Even if she didn't have the weapon to go with it, for some reason she knew it would have been better than nothing.

"I mean it," the other guard said as two sets of footsteps moved towards the bathroom's door. "I may be head over heels for her, but my heart belongs to you."

The view from her seat was empty again. She could see the far wall of the room from where she was frozen in place, except for where the afterimage of the flashlight's beam consumed her vision. When she heard the bathroom door open she felt her hands moving. They were shaking. She wasn't sure whether they were shaking because her knees were shaking or whether her knees were shaking because her hands were – or both – but she didn't care. As long as they were still moving everything was alright. Everything worked. "Yeah, I know," the guard with the flashlight said as their voices faded. "I already said I saw you checking me out earlier."

When the door shut again Freesia wasn't sure if she was safe to move, so she sat still. The feeling was beginning to return to her legs, and she didn't like it. What parts of them that weren't asleep burned, and if she hadn't known better she would have thought she'd just run a marathon. She was certainly sweating like she had. Along with the tears that had run down her face, the sweat coated nearly every inch of her body. It was freezing in the chill of the dimly lit room. In the end it just made her want to cling even tighter to her thighs. When she heard the hinges of another stall opening she did just that. This time though, it was Fina who stepped out into the open. With Mary slung over one of her shoulders, she helped the Federation woman hobble her way towards the entrance. Stopping at the door of Freesia's stall, the two paused to peek in. "That was kind of close, yeah?" Fina said quietly.

Looking at the stall's door, Freesia tried to nod. Control was coming back slowly, but she still didn't have the power to make her head bob back up after she'd dropped it. "Yeah," she said when everything else failed.

"Did uh…" With a wave Fina gestured towards the stall door. She was completely visible through the gap, along with at least three fourths of the woman she had hanging on her shoulder. "Did he do that?"

Freesia gave another attempt at a nod. This one came out even worse than the last. "Yeah," she said again. It was all she could manage to get out with her throat so dry.

Fina gave a nervous nod. She seemed surprisingly calm despite what had just happened, but her eyes gave her away. They were still twice the size Freesia had remembered them. Her hands were completely steady though. Through all of the battles they'd fought together she'd never seen them shake. Freesia's own hands were rock steady under fire, but once the fighting stopped the excess adrenaline had her shivering for what felt like hours. Everyone always got a good laugh out of it. Freesia wasn't laughing now. She knew that she'd be shaking herself awake all night, assuming she ever made it back into her own bed. Fina would never have that problem. "Are you alright?" the girl asked.

Still failing to gain control of her head, Freesia tried to swallow. There wasn't anything to bring down. With her throat dry, her breaths came in short rasps. She wanted to tell the blonde she'd be fine in a few minutes. All she really needed was some time to clear her head and get things sorted out. Maybe a minute for her legs, another minute for her arms, and possibly a couple extra seconds for any fingers or toes that tried holding out. Unfortunately eloquence was going to take more than a couple of minutes to start coming back. "No."

Fortunately, Fina seemed to have been able to fill in the gaps. Nodding, she began pulling the other woman off to the side and out of sight. "I'm going to go check her over," she said as she disappeared around the corner. "Come out when you're ready."

"Yeah." The latch. It had been the only thing standing between her and a night of torment and humiliation at the detention facility. With the door cracked open, it sat just in front of her face. For a long while she sat and stared. Back in Kloden she'd almost been killed in the passenger seat of a truck. The forest had been beautiful. There was more green in one place there than she'd seen in her entire life. Unfortunately, she was seeing it for the first time from a vehicle. A moving vehicle. As tree after tree flew past, she felt compelled to lean out of her window and leave whatever she'd had for lunch that day behind on the side of the road. When she'd finished and sat back, there was a hole the size of a large coin in the windscreen directly in front of her, and the entire bottom half of her headrest had been blown off and blasted all over the back of the cabin. If she'd have been sitting up, she'd have been dead. Bent over, she was alive. Sitting up, dead. Bent over, alive. One stall over…

When she felt she could control her legs again she let them fall to the floor. A little more feeling returned when the blood started rushing back through, and within a few minutes she felt like she could stand again. Finding her feet, she stumbled out of the stall and took a look around the room. Fina and Mary were sitting against the opposite wall. Keeping one hand on the stall siding for balance, Freesia began walking over towards them. When she was nearly there she realized water took priority and changed course to the sinks. She didn't bother trying to cup her hands. Turning the faucet, she dipped her head below the stream of water and let it flow directly into her mouth. When she'd finished drinking her fill, she turned back towards the two women and once again hobbled over. Her legs were returning little by little, and by the time she actually reached them she might have been able to pass a sobriety test, assuming the officer testing her was paying more attention to her butt than where her feet where actually falling. "Doing better?" Fina asked as Freesia walked up to her.

Successfully nodding this time, Freesia wiped her hand across her forehead and sighed. Her sleeve came back damp. "Yeah," she said. "I'll be fine." Fina was clearly alright. Looking the other woman over, Freesia licked her lips. Somehow they were still dry. They were likely the only part of her that wasn't soaked. "She going to make it?"

"I'll make it," the woman answered. "My ankle's gone, but otherwise I'm fine. Just had the breath knocked out of me."

"Ah." Taking another look around the room, Freesia could see that it looked a lot less open now that she wasn't being hunted down. It was a lot smaller than the main prisoners' bathrooms. In a way it was almost cozy. She nearly regretted never making a good behavior list. "I'm sorry for throwing you," she said halfheartedly as she took a few steps towards the urinals.

"Yeah, that was kind of shitty. Got to do what you got to do though I guess."

"Yeah." Reaching the row of urinals, Freesia scanned the black marks that she'd seen scrawled all over the wall when she'd first entered the room. In the dark of the room it was a bit difficult to see at first, but once she realized what she was looking at all of the lines and scribbles fell into place. She wasn't in the mood for a full laugh, but she couldn't help but let out a number of low chuckles. It was exactly what she needed. "Hey Fina," she called back without looking. "Come check this out."

"Something funny?" the blond asked as her footsteps came closer.

"Just check it out," she repeated with a wave towards the wall.

When Fina stepped next to her Freesia could see that the girl – as she'd predicted – wasn't suffering the shakes like she was. The blonde was showing signs of wear though. Her posture was suffering, and while she was still alert as always her eyelids were beginning to droop. If there was one thing Freesia handled better than the girl it was fatigue. "What are we looking at?"

"Give it a sec."

With a heavy sigh Fina rubbed her eyes and refocused. Skimming back and forth, they shifted from one end of the wall to the other before settling on one point. When they narrowed Freesia knew she'd gotten it. "That's disgusting," the girl said.

Turning her attention back to the wall, Freesia took a second skim. Scattered about the concrete siding of the building's interior, series of prisoner's numbers had been scrawled down, each with a string of tally marks running next to it. She didn't know all of the numbers, but every one of the ones she did recognize belonged to women. "Oh come on, Fina," she said. Sticking around in the bathroom wasn't very high on her list of things she wanted to do, but she also knew she didn't want to go back outside. Outside was dangerous. She was vulnerable out there. Before stepping out she wanted to work herself back up a bit. "You're not naive. You had to know this happened."

"It doesn't bother me that it happens," she said as her eyes continued to scan the wall in front of her, "but keeping count? That's just wrong."

"Hey, whatever keeps morale up." Taking another look at the long rows of tallies, Freesia gave another low laugh. It was a little stronger this time. "Man, it's no wonder those guards didn't see us," she said to the girl standing next to her. "They've probably all gone blind."

"That's not funny," Fina said.

"You don't think?" Fina wasn't laughing, but Freesia could see she hadn't looked away either. Suddenly grinning, she grabbed the blonde by the arm and began walking across the wall. "Come on," she said. "Let's find you."

"No, I don't want to know."

Grabbing tighter, Freesia dragged her along as she skimmed the numbers she passed. There didn't seem to be any order to them, but she didn't see any repeats. "I bet you'd want to know if Vyse was marking down."

"That's different."

"Yeah," Freesia said. "I thought so." When she reached the third urinal down the line, her eyes suddenly stopped. It took her mind a little longer to interpret what she was seeing, but when it hit she froze in place. This time it wasn't in fear. "Well," she said as the number '780' came into focus. "Here I am."

"That's… a lot of tallies," Fina said as her body finally caught up to her arm.

"Yeah," Freesia said in awe. She hadn't been expecting that. "I guess these guys have a lot of free time."

"Yeah," Fina agreed. "So now that we know we should get out of here."

Looking back towards the door, Freesia tried to fight off another shudder. She wasn't sure how successful she was when she took into account all of the shaking she was already doing. On the other side of the door there were guard posts, patrols, and searchlights. A single man with a flashlight had been bad enough. Handling a whole army of them was more than she could deal with at the moment. "Nope," she said tugging the girl along again. She was stalling for time, and she knew it. That was alright by her. "We're finding you first."

"Look, I really don't–"

"Bingo," Freesia said when she'd found what she'd been looking for. Fina's number was less than two paces away from her own. She figured the identifications must have been grouped by association. It was about the only way she could make sense of the jumbled mess. "Fina, you dirty floozy," she said as her eyes scrolled across the line of marks that followed the girl's number. "What have you been doing?"

Freezing in place Fina stared up at the wall. Freesia would have laughed if she wasn't nearly freezing to death in her sweaty uniform. It was disgusting, and made all the worse knowing that she wouldn't get a shower until at least the next morning – in the standard bathroom. Once they left it would be back to the open rooms. Privacy would be a distant memory. "I haven't been doing anything," Fina said.

"Oh bullshit," Freesia said. "You don't get results like that doing nothing."

"And what are you going off on me for?" With her free hand raised, Fina shook her head. Her eyes still didn't leave the line of tallies on the wall. "You have more marks than I do."

"She probably does," Mary's voice called from the other side of the room. "But you're a surprise. We already knew York was a whore."

Looking back, Freesia could still see the row of marks next to her name. It was immature, and it was certainly vulgar, but she couldn't help but feel a bit of pride shine through with each little line put up next to her number. It didn't make the excursion into the bathroom worth it, but it took a little bit of the after sting away. Either that or it kept her mind off of it. "Oh come on," she said, "I am not a whore. I'm just friendly is all."

"Sure. If that's what we're calling it these days."

"What I want to know," Fina interrupted, "is why the guys didn't list that marker down with our assets. I mean, don't you think something like that would come in handy?"

With a labored laugh, Mary shook her head. "And give themselves away? If they say they've got a marker we're bound to ask how they got it. Besides, I doubt they know about it anyway. Do you really think any of them have ever been rewarded for good behavior?"

Eyes widening, Fina stared back up at her own line of tallies. Her mouth gaped open slightly as she turned towards Freesia. "Uh… Wavy was…"

The two shared an awkward stare before Freesia broke out into another sort-of-laugh. Wavy had access to the bathroom. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. With Wavy being the man he was though, she wasn't surprised he hadn't mentioned it. "Oh, come on, Fina," she said. "He's not marking down here. With the way he treats that ring on his finger there'd have to be a column that said 'wife' before he picked that marker up. Poor guy."

"Yeah, it must be rough to be so far away from his wife."

"No," Freesia said shaking her head, "I mean that he got married in the first place. All this wall tells me is that this is every guy's prison fantasy, and he's just gone and chained himself down. Look at what he's missing out on."

Fina didn't seem to share the idea. Slowly turning away, she rolled her eyes let out a soft grunt. "Now _you're _disgusting," she said as she walked away. "Come on, we're leaving."

"But what about Mary's co–"

"Now."

As her friend helped the other woman up onto her feet Freesia took a final look around the room. She had a feeling she wasn't going to be seeing it again, or at least any room like it. With the way the guards had been singling her out recently and with the way she managed to accumulate bruises that had their signatures on them, she didn't see any passes for good behavior coming her way any time soon. That was alright. To get a pass you had to be a suck-up. Suck-ups were bitches. Freesia would be using the toilet in the wide and open for the foreseeable future, but at least she wasn't a bitch. That was victory enough. Almost smiling, she began to fall into step behind Fina when something sitting on the top of the urinal closest to her stall caught her eye.

It was the marker. Walking over to it instead, she lifted it up and gave it a quick once over. There wasn't anything special about it. She was about to put it down when she stopped herself. Glancing back up at the wall, she could see that, although most of it had been covered in the seemingly random scrawls and scribbles, there were still some empty spaces. Shrugging, she pulled the top of the cap off of the marker and walked to the nearest one. Fair was fair, after all. She only had time to jot down a single digit before Fina's voice stopped her. "Hey," the girl called. She was already standing by the door, and, along with the woman over her shoulder, looked ready to go. "What are you doing?"

Still holding the marker up to the wall, Freesia looked back and forth between the two women waiting for her and the empty spot on the wall. She really didn't have to walk through that door, but spending the night in the bathroom wasn't going to work out for her either. Sooner or later someone was going to have to walk in, and she didn't want to be there when they did. Still, she found that she wanted to drag her feet about it. "I have some numbers to add," she said.

"Then we're leaving you behind."

As the bathroom's door slowly cracked open, Freesia dropped the marker and nearly ran to take her spot next to the other prisoners. She hadn't even bothered to cap it. Being left alone in the stall had been traumatic. Even a second alone in the entire bathroom would have been Hell. As Fina looked out and made sure the way was clear, Freesia transferred Mary over onto her own shoulder. Fina was shorter, and it would have slowed them down if she tried carrying the woman back to their barracks. When the blonde signaled the all clear, she stepped out into the night, and Freesia followed behind her.

With the threat of a long fall out of the way, the rest of the trip back melted into a blur. Freesia turned her head to check behind them every five seconds or so, and once she'd fallen into the pattern and it had become habit she zoned out. It wasn't until she was standing next to her barracks that she realized they'd been walking at all. Nearly bursting out laughing in joy – and not a little bit of fear – she tried to keep herself from celebrating. It wasn't until she saw the other two women looking around that she remembered they didn't have a way inside. "So," she said, now attempting to hold back tears. "You have an idea?"

Keeping watch on the front side of the building, Fina shook her head. Freesia's heart sank. Any idea would have been good. At least, any idea except for the one that came out. "I think we have to go through the window again," Mary said.

Looking up, Freesia tried to figure out how that was going to work. The window was too high for her to reach on her own, and if she couldn't do it Fina certainly couldn't. "How?"

"Alright," the woman said. "You'll have to hoist me up a bit. I'll slide the glass open, and break through the screen like we did in the men's barracks."

"They're going to see that in the morning," Freesia said sighing. "They won't be happy, and if two screens are broken like that in the same way on the same night they're going to know something's up."

"You have a better idea?"

Freesia thought for a moment. At least two of the guard posts stationed in the area would have a good view of their front door. There weren't any others. As much as she hated the idea, the window was their only option. "Alright," she said. "Hoist me up and I'll get it open and help you guys through from the other side."

"No," Mary said. "You're hoisting me up. You've got to go last."

Staring, Freesia tried to make the words the woman said make sense. No matter what order she rearranged the words, she couldn't do it. "Excuse me?"

"Fina and I can't do it. It's got to be you."

Freesia took a quick look around. She could see plenty of lights around the camp, but she couldn't see any patrols. They were out there though, and they were looking for her. When they found her, they were going to do horrible, horrible things. That wasn't happening. "No."

"What the Hell do you mean, 'No'?"

She didn't mind waiting. In fact, she could have spent another ten minutes standing there without a problem. What she couldn't take was the thought of being out there alone – and knowing that the two women with her would be depending on her to bail them out. They were supposed to handle it themselves. "I can't."

"Well neither can we," the woman said.

"Why not?"

Mary rolled her eyes as if it were obvious. As Freesia thought about it, it really should have been. It was a high window, after all. "Because Fina's short and my ankle's fucked. Now quit trying to ditch out and lift me up."

Freesia shot Fina a sideways glance before complying. The girl merely nodded. That made the vote two to one. Still shaking, she took a deep breath before giving in and slowly hoisting the Federation woman up by her good leg. Even supporting her with her knee, Freesia had a difficult time holding her up. She didn't look a whole lot bigger than Freesia, but she felt it. When her arms came within seconds of giving out, the weight pressing down on them suddenly slackened, and she watched as the woman she'd been holding moments before lifted herself up and disappeared into what now looked like an open window.

With one down, Freesia turned towards Fina. The girl was already sorting herself out, and had placed her boot in Freesia's interlaced hands within seconds of the other woman having disappeared. Thankfully, she was a lot lighter. In fact, she felt almost featherlike in comparison, and within a few moments she too had fallen out of sight as she crawled through the window.

When the women didn't reach their hands out to help her through immediately after having disappeared, Freesia began to panic. Her mouth was getting dry again, and her shivering still hadn't ceased. Even worse the shakes were from a combination of sources now – a mixture of an adrenaline overdose and the slick coating of sweat that covered her skin freezing in the cold February night air. Cold, tired, and terrified, she waited for a pair of arms to poke out of the window to bring her through. When Fina's face finally showed over the edge of the windowsill Freesia understood why she'd earned so many tally marks in that bathroom. She'd never seen anyone so gorgeous. "Decided to take your time, eh?"

"Sorry," Fina said as she began to lower herself down far enough for Freesia to get a grip on her arms. It wasn't until half her body had lowered down that she realized that Mary must have been holding onto her from the other side. For as much crap as they'd gone through that night on what Freesia deemed her account, the woman had a remarkable pain tolerance, and at least for the moment she was thankful.

Grabbing hold, Freesia planted her feet on the siding of the barracks and began helping the two inside reel her in. After some straining, she finally hoisted herself up onto the window and rolled through. Thankfully, there was a bed under her, and – more importantly – it was unoccupied. Having landed in Fina's bed, she didn't want to move. It wasn't until the blonde pushed her off that she finally found her feet again and began hobbling over to her own sack. She was amazed that nobody had woken up when they'd broken through the window, but when she realized how tired she herself was it didn't seem that farfetched. She was going to be out the moment she hit the mattress, and she loved the idea of it. Not even bothering to undress, she fell flat on her bed and closed her eyes.

When she realized she was still awake her eyes opened again. If she hadn't been through it before she would have thought there had been an earthquake. She knew better. Sighing, she rolled over onto her side and gripped tightly to her blanket. It helped control her tremors, but her bed was still shaking like somebody was jumping on it. There wasn't anything more that she could have done about that, though, and until it stopped she was SOL. As exhausted as she was, it was going to be a long night. At least she had her pillow. Trading the blanket she'd just grabbed out for the pillow, she let out a short series of sniffles as she pulled it close enough to bury her face. It wasn't nice, and it certainly wasn't comfy, but for the time being it would do. She could settle.


End file.
